


A Meeting At The Gala

by ilikebigficsandicannotlie (HairSoCurly)



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 94,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HairSoCurly/pseuds/ilikebigficsandicannotlie
Summary: What would have happened if Elizabeth didn't skip the Surgeons' Society Gala on Christmas Eve?
Relationships: Cordano - Relationship, Elizabeth Corday/Robert Romano
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct import from my original posting on ff.net, including all of the AN's from the original postings.

Chapter 1

AN: Some direct quotes from Season 5, Episode 10. I own nothing.

Another Christmas away from home. This year was worse. Last year the dull ache of homesickness hadn't yet sunk in. It just felt like another year away at boarding school. But summer holidays were no longer a thing and Elizabeth's time with family had been limited to a few days in the past year. It wasn't London she missed the most, but the companionship and support of her family. Sure she could call her father, but redoing her internship had left her with precious little time and this was the man she had inherited her workaholic tendencies from in the first place. If Elizabeth wanted to talk with him, she'd have better luck ringing up the OR at his work than catching him at home. No godbrother with a door to bang on at all hours of the night, willing to share a pint or three after a horrible day. And let's not start on her Mother, who was currently not speaking to her after discovering she was staying in America. Madam Corday was not pleased.

Corday, you have fucked it up this year. Staying in Chicago and redoing her internship sounded so much better when she had a supportive boyfriend in the picture. Or thought she did. Because let's be honest, Peter was never _really_ supportive of her starting over. It was sure as hell was convenient for him though. He still got to go out with her and she was no longer the direct competition. But dating a man with a small child was never going to last long unless Elizabeth wanted to get serious, and maternal instincts did not run strong in the Corday family.

Which is how we've arrived at this utterly _delightful_ Christmas eve. Buy a ticket to the Surgeon's Society Gala they said. It will be fun, they said. You won't be sitting home alone, they said. What they didn't say was that tables were assigned and she didn't get to pick where she sat. Oh no. Instead, her tickets were sent in the mail along with a list of whom would be at her table. She could hear her godmother now, " This is punishment for not getting on your flight last year Elizabeth". Punishment indeed.

Elizabeth walked into the surgeon's lounge hoping to find Peter. Sure they weren't dating anymore, but she knew he'd be supportive in her latest plight.

"That's a Christmas card image, a surgeon wrapping a book. What is it, something educational for one of your nieces?"

"Actually it's for you, T.S. Elliot. You said you liked him, so I uh. .got him last month before. . ." Peter trailed off, slightly awkwardly.

"Peter that's so sweet. I can't think of a more thoughtful gift. Thank you." Elizabeth was slightly ashamed that she hadn't thought to get him anything. The only things she had focused on lately was surviving her M & M and trying to get enough sleep so she wouldn't have to repeat that horrid ordeal. It was nice to know that she still had a friend.

"Listen um, I was wondering if we could finish our workups around noon, I need to get out here early. " Peter said while trying to make headway on the table full of gifts to wrap.

"You've got big Christmas eve plans?" Lucky bastard, she thought.

"Yeah my sister is hosting a dinner, Carla is going to bring Reese by. I haven't seen him all week."

"Oh don't worry, I understand. I absolutely hate being away from my family during the holidays. " Hate it and I'm paying for it she thought. "In fact, I'm so desperate not to be alone this Christmas eve that uh, I bought a ticket to the Surgeons' Society Gala". Lord kill me now. She put her head in her hand and laughed at her luck. Here it goes.

"Ohhh, golly" It came out as a grimace. Peter felt her pain. It was obvious.

"Yup, and you won't believe who is sitting next to me."

The door opened to the surgeon's lounge and of course, it was him. That's just her luck these days.

"Hey! There she is!" Lord help us all, this man is far too giddy about what will surely be a night of torture for her. Elizabeth looked up at Peter and caught his eye. He knew without saying that Romano was her dinner companion.

Elizabeth needed a drink already. God I hope they serve scotch at this Gala, or I'm not going to be able to get through it, she thought. Peter's laughing at her. Great. It truly is that bad.

"So I checked around, we definitely have the coolest table, and I'm feeling kind of lucky that we were both able to make it tonight," Romano said, stopping in front of the table to smile at her before continuing over to the coffee. " A little trouble in paradise?"

Keep a straight face, Corday, don't look at Peter laughing at you like the traitor that he is.

"Anyways tonight's dinner is semi-formal so any slinky black number will do, although if I may voice a personal preference for something short and off the shoulder." Romano had a smirk on his face as the words came out of his mouth oh so casually over his cup of coffee.

Elizabeth couldn't believe it. The absolute gall of this man, barging in and telling her what to wear while taking a jab at her failed relationship. Failed everything. She should kick Peter to stop him from laughing. That would teach him a lesson. As long as she keeps a straight face, Romano won't have any ammunition and will leave now that he's got his coffee.

Romano turns to leave and stops short of the door. He tells Benton that he's got a week's worth of charts to review and since he's trying to leave early, Benton gets to cover his teaching rounds. Elizabeth and Peter share a look of exasperation as Romano walks out of the lounge, coffee in hand and a spring in his step. No time for gift wrapping, they head out of the lounge and back to work.

"I'm so sorry, Peter I can't believe he foistered this on you. I"ll start on the pre-ops, that should save you some time."

What a Christmas this is shaping up to be Elizabeth thought as she walked off to see her first patient. Mr. Gardner. Poor man, this day actually can get worse for some. In the hospital on Christmas eve for pre-op labs and MRI's for his prostate cancer surgery on Christmas day. And now he's asking to talk to Romano. Get it together Elizabeth thought, no need for a patient to see you make a face at the mention of Romano's name. The poor man looks like he's going to cry when Elizabeth tells him there's a 70-80% chance of loss of sexual function. She suggests seeing a sperm bank before walking off to the next patient. She doesn't have the time or patience to hold this man's hand today.

Elizabeth and Peter had finally gotten caught up on their caseload. At the main desk, Peter was frantically finishing up his charts when Romano walked up informing her it was "time to call in our entrée preferences." This really was happening, she was inadvertently going to be having dinner with Romano this evening. Let there be a trauma for her to be paged to.

Shirley put a stop to the conversation when she informed Romano that his patient, Mr. Demesa, was coming in with post-op pain.

"What a pain in the ass. Peter, you assisted on his gastroplasty. When he comes in you take him." Romano says turning back to face Elizabeth. Even Shirley makes a face at this, knowing Peter was trying to leave on time.

"Doctor Romano, I'm already piled up with work here and I'm trying to make it back to my family".

Romano barely acknowledges Benton before turning back to Elizabeth saying, "What can I say, Peter, sometimes being a resident just sucks. So what will it be Lizzy? Mother Goose or Bambi?".

All Elizabeth could do was attempt to keep a straight face while requesting the venison. Perhaps she could work in a story or two over dinner about the hunting trips her godfather would take her on. Maybe Romano would think twice about harassing her if he knew she had killed something. Or not. She could never tell with him. Another eye roll shared with Peter as Romano walked off. Back to work.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Almost. Elizabeth was trying to finish her rounds when Shirley found her. Poor Mr. Gardner was in the fertility clinic when he had an M. I. and they were sending him down to the ER.

Elizabeth ran down the stairs and ran into Weaver as she came off the elevator with her patient. They took him straight into trauma one, where to her shock, Kerry Weaver decided to forget how to handle a patient.

"Oh my, you're David Gardner the trumpet soloist. I saw your guest performance with Chicago Symphony" Weaver could barely get the man's name out of her mouth. Poor Mr. Gardner, with an oxygen mask on his face, was trapped as the ER attending started to hit on him. As if this was really the time. He kept looking back and forth between Weaver and Dr. Corday, one quizzing him on where he was playing next and the other trying to get his breathing under control. A silent look of " Help Me" was sent towards Dr. Corday.

Weaver ruled out the M.I. and instead pronounced it a panic attack before asking if he was nervous about his next performance. The grip he had on Dr. Corday's hand tightened. A definite get me out of here. Elizabeth couldn't believe that Kerry Weaver had forgotten herself in front of a patient like that. The man was attractive though, so Elizabeth couldn't completely blame her, but was there ever a good time to hit on a patient?

With an M.I. ruled out, Elizabeth freed her patient from Weaver's clutches. Taking him back up to surgery to redo his labs, they shared a look of relief to be away from the ER attending.

"Mr. Gardner, your labs look stunning. We should probably wait on the cardiac enzymes before letting you go," she said reviewing his charts.

"Well at this rate I should probably check-in for the night, but the less time spent here the better." A glance in her direction as she was reviewing his charts before adding " No offense".

A laugh followed by "How are you feeling?".

"Like an idiot, everyone thought I was having this big heart attack and it turns out I'm just a nervous wreck."

The conversation turned to the option to postpone the surgery, something that Mr. Gardner refused. A televised special with the Boston Symphony was coming up and he had to be recovered by then. Out of politeness, Elizabeth said she'd have to mark her calendar for it. He was watching her as she was handed charts, asking her if she was a symphony fan.

"I'm afraid I know very little about orchestral music" Elizabeth responded with little thought.

"So what do you like?", a slight challenge behind the question. She couldn't help but flirt a little in response before the last of her work called her away. It would probably be the only pleasant conversation she would get for the rest of the night. Might as well enjoy it.

Just a few more charts and Elizabeth was free to leave. Peter was at the front desk when she arrived, on the phone trying to make arrangements to see Reese. He was still dealing with Mr. Demesa, and was deep in charts at the same time.

"Lizzie, if you're ready we can go together." Elizabeth looked up from her own charts to see Romano with his suit for the evening in hand, walking around the desk to stand next to her.

"Um look, I've got a couple of patients to finish with, ok" Head back down going through her charts, don't look at him and he will go away.

"Is Peter trying to ruin our evening?"

"No not at all" Elizabeth says, finally looking at him properly to find him staring at her, a slight pout on his face.

"It was a joke."

"Look I'll see you there." God, I hope note running through her brain as she says the words.

Romano wasn't joking however when he put his stack of charts down in front of Benton. He couldn't finish them and needed to be in by 8, which was also Reese's bedtime. A quick thanks for the help and Romano was off to the Gala. Benton threw the chart in his hand and all Elizabeth could do was shake her head as she tried to finish her own work for the evening.

David Gardner was finally cleared to leave and Elizabeth wanted to check in with him one last time before heading out for the night. He was dressed in street clothes when she found him and he was smiling, happy to leave the hospital. He looked good.

Thinking if only Weaver could see him now, Elizabeth asked which section of the orchestra he was going out with now. A smile and a glance in her direction.

"No, I've been unattached since starting the tour six months ago." Kerry would be thrilled.

"Swarms of groupies in every city?" That got a laugh out of him as she walked him to the elevator. They talked about his regret at not making more of an effort in that department when he revealed that it wasn't the surgery he was nervous about. Oh no. It was standing in the fertility clinic with a cup and a magazine thinking this is it, his last sexual experience.

Elizabeth had the sudden realization that her patient was hoping she was interested in him. The bonding experience of freeing him from Weaver had left him feeling far more comfortable to smile and flirt with her, forgetting that in the morning she would be one of the surgeons operating on him. He looked so very attractive sanding there. Pity, he was her patient. There would be hell to pay if anyone found out she left with him and she couldn't land in hot water again so soon after her M & M. As tempting as it was to leave with an attractive man for an enjoyable evening, she just couldn't risk it with this one. Elizabeth had paused too long and he had noticed.

"So what are your plans now that you're off? Any family in town for the holidays?" A slight look of hope in her direction.

"No, all mine are workaholics." A heavy sigh before continuing. " I'm actually running a bit behind, I'm supposed to be headed off to the Surgeons' Society Gala this evening."

"Well, I won't keep you then. Merry Christmas." A look of disappointment and he stepped into the elevator.

Elizabeth sighed, she was done with work and now had no excuse but to change and head out. As tempting as it was to just go home to avoid Romano, she just couldn't bear the silence of her flat this Christmas eve. She headed to the locker room to change, cringing at the thought that her dress fit Romano's preference. Short, black, and off the shoulder. What was she getting herself into?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

AN: I own nothing

She was late. He had been there an hour and no sign of Lizzie. She wasn't coming. He had gotten his hopes up for nothing. Of course, she wasn't coming. When he heard that she was buying a Gala ticket, he was excited. With his mother going to New York for Christmas, he was going to be in Chicago alone. Buying a ticket made sense. And he could spend time with Her. Sure, Lizzie wasn't looking for his company in particular, but she didn't want to be alone either. And he wouldn't turn down a chance to spend time with her outside of work. But the party had started and she wasn't here. The table was boring without her. Mike Robson, an attending at Mercy was to his left. He was nice enough, but more absorbed in talking to his wife. Sheffield was to his right and droning on about his latest procedure when he stopped mid-sentence to stare at someone across the room.

It was her.

She was stunning. Of course, she was. Elizabeth had her hair up, the same style she wore at work. The same knot he always wanted to free from its restraints. But this time there was no professional lab coat covering a crisp button-down and skirt. This time she was clad in the most beautiful black dress. It sat off her shoulders and wrapped around her waist to a full skirt. She had to be wearing proper stockings with it. There was a hint of a black tone on her legs that ended in the delightfully enticing black heels. He couldn't look away as she looked around the room.

And then she saw him.

Her eyebrow went up as she walked across the room and it took everything in his power to not jump up and take her in his arms. Instead, he smirked and gave her his typical greeting.

"Lizzie, I was wondering if you were going to join me. You almost missed dinner. Still having Bambi I hope." Play it cool Romano.

"Yes, I'm famished after today. It's been a while since I've had venison and I hope it's fresh. I do love a good back-strap ."

Fresh? "Lizzie, you've had fresh venison?".

"Oh yes. My godfather is an avid hunter and we'd go once a year on a hunt in northern Scotland."

He eyed her warily and made a mental note not ask her about the venison. She is a woman who wields a scalp professionally after all.

"I guess that means you'll be the judge of how good our meal is then. I took your lead on the menu selection and you're just in time for the main course. You know, I didn't think you were going to make it." Romano needed to play it cool, no need to let her know how excited he was that she was here.

She laughed. It was a frustrated laugh, but a laugh none the less.

"I didn't know if I would make it either."

"What can I get you to drink ma'am?". Stupid waiter. All non-work moments with Lizzie were precious to him. And this idiot was interrupting.

"Lagavulin 16, neat. Make it a double." A serious drink. She had had a bad day.

"Sorry ma'am, we don't have Lagavulin."

Elizabeth looked at the waiter with pure contempt, clearly put off by having to come up with an alternative.

"Do you have Laphroig then? Anything from Islay?" Elizabeth gave a silent prayer to St. Bibiana, patron saint of hangovers and single women. A prayer or three couldn't go awry at the moment.

"Yes, we have Laphroig. I'll be back with that in a moment. Can I get refills for anyone else while I'm here?"

With the waiter taking drink orders, Elizabeth was able to get her first look at her dinner partner for the evening. Romano was to her left wearing a black suit she had never seen on him before, something too nice for work with its satin lapels and French cuffs peaking out. Damn the man's tailor, Romano always wore a suit well.

"Now that drinks are ordered, are you going to introduce me to your charming companion Romano?" Elizabeth turned to look at the man sitting to her right. He was looking at her a little too eagerly. A glance around the table told her that there was only one other woman present and judging by the rather large diamond on her left hand, married to her dinner companion. Fantastic. A glance towards Romano showed that he was none too thrilled with having to introduce her.

"Lizzie, this is David Sheffield. He works over at Rush. David, this is Elizabeth Corday." He smiled while giving the introductions, but it was tight and clearly showed his irritation. A very firm back off towards Sheffield, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

"Corday is it? I just read a paper in the British Journal of Surgery by Charles Corday, any relation?" Any thought Elizabeth had of flirting with Sheffield went out the door at the mention of her father. The man's specialty was more than likely cardiothoracic, and while she loved her father dearly, Elizabeth knew first hand the level of vaingloriousness that ran rampant in that specialty.

"Mr. Corday is Lizzie's father, although they don't share a specialty. Tell me how is he doing, it's been a while since I last saw him?" Robert wanted to end the conversation with Sheffield quickly. They've been introduced and that was the end of his politeness where he was concerned. This evening was a rare opportunity to monopolize Elizabeth's attention and he sure as hell wasn't going to let anyone ruin it. Now if only he could turn the topic of conversation to something other than a man who actively hated him.

Elizabeth was looking at Romano again. A tilt of her head and a smirk on her face. She was going to enjoy this.

"My father is doing well. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear you're asking about him, what with his high opinion of you. Shall I pass on your regards?" Elizabeth watched him squirm at that remark. They both knew how much Charles Corday despised Romano. She frequently heard her father complain about the man and suspected that Romano's picture had made its way onto her father's dartboard at one time or another.

"So Lizzie, does Romano frequently answer for you?" She made a face at Sheffield addressing her as Lizzie. Better to correct him now than have someone else calling her by that god awful name.

"It's Elizabeth, and Dr. Romano does love the sound of his own voice." At that moment the waiter arrived with drinks for the table. Scotch had to be medicinal, with the way it eased her mind at just the first sip. Yes, that was going to be her professional opinion. A whisky a day keeps the doctor away. Even better if the doctor was Romano.

"So why does he call you Lizzie then?"

Romano was looking pleased. No one else called her Lizzie, and she always corrected anyone who tired. Anyone except him. His martini tasted like victory.

"Well when I met him in London, I just thought that with being American, Elizabeth was too many syllables for him." The look on his face was priceless. Choking on his martini, trying not to spit it out. She had to try very hard not to laugh as she asked "Are you alright Dr. Romano?" She could hear Sheffield laughing next to her. The couple across the table had started paying attention now.

"Well Lizzie", Romano took a slow sip of his drink before carefully placing it down. "If you thought Elizabeth was too many syllables for me to handle, then what made you follow me to America? I couldn't possibly be a competent surgeon if I can't manage a simple name."

They had the attention of everyone at the table now. Their normal back and forth sarcasm was out in the open, and the slight undertone of hostility was making the rest of the table uncomfortable. David Sheffield was looking back and forth between the two of them. A man clearly having second thoughts about his plans for the evening.

"Would anyone care for wine with their meal?" The waiter had returned and this time with help. A cart with carefully plated meals and several bottles of wine for the table. His timing had been impeccable. It saved Elizabeth the trouble of having to come up with an answer but didn't save her from the smug look Robert Romano was giving her. He was pleased with himself.

With wine poured and food served there was a natural lull in the conversation. Elizabeth reached for the glass of wine in front of her, this was definitely going to be a long night.

"Cheers Lizzie."

Romano watched her out the corner of his eye while they ate. She was clearly hungry and with her schedule probably hadn't eaten since breakfast. She had been working like a madwoman this year, a consequence of starting over with her internship. Everyone, including himself, had quietly been shocked that she was willing to sacrifice her pride and start over. Behind her back it was the talk of the hospital, that someone so far along in her training would be willing to go back to the beginning. The surgical training in the US was so different than the program in the UK, and she was already well into her specialty training back home. The fact that she would start over was a testament to her dedication to surgery and her desire to stay in the States. He rarely underestimated people, but he had underestimated her completely. Robert Romano had not envisioned a scenario in which a third-generation surgeon would ever willingly take a hit to their pride and ego like that. He thought she would take her father's offer to join his lucrative and well-respected practice. His Lizzie wouldn't do that though, and he hated how much he admired her for it.

He suspected that part of her motivation for starting over was a big fuck you directed at him. Considering that he was off at a head and neck conference when she was given her notice probably added to that. But she had earned his ire with the Kotlowitz incident and then his admiration by standing her ground on it.

He snuck another glance at her. She was on her second glass of wine and appeared to be savoring every bite of her meal. Perhaps she was sufficiently satiated to be tempted into conversation with him.

"So, what happened after I left that held you up so long?"

She looked over at him and shook her head with a slight chuckle.

"I had to rescue our patient from Kerry Weaver." Elizabeth took a large swing of wine at that comment.

"Oh really. " This could be interesting. What did Kerry Weaver do? Elizabeth looked at him and laughed.

"Oh, you'll never believe this. Mr. Gardner was having concerns about his operation and I suggested he see the fertility clinic as an option should he want children in the future. While up there he presented with symptoms of an M.I. and was taken down to the E.R. for evaluation, Weaver being the attending. Apparently, she recognized him. The entire time we're trying to rule out an M.I. she was hitting on him, just couldn't stop herself. Eventually, she ruled an anxiety attack, but at that point, she was more likely to trigger a second than help with the first. Weaver couldn't be bothered to ask a medically relevant question, and Mr. Gardener was squeezing my hand in desperation to get away from her. The sigh of relief that man let out when I finally got him out of trauma one was immense. " Elizabeth had a cheeky smile, taking another sip of wine as she finished her story.

"You're laughing at me."

He was and he couldn't help it. The image of Elizabeth having to pry a patient away from an obsessed Weaver was too much for him. He let the laughter take over him momentarily and missed the look she gave him, stunned at seeing him smile properly for the first time.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help myself. Tell me, did you leave Weaver alive for trying to molest a patient or did you take her down a peg or two?"

She was laughing at that. A full smile took over her face as she threw her head back into laughter.

"Unfortunately I was more focused on getting Mr. Gardner out of the ER in one piece than berating Kerry Weaver. He was very grateful to be delivered from her clutches, however."

"Don't tell me he professed his undying love for you after that, I could understand it but it would be a little much."

"Oh no," he could see her visibly hesitate, debating on whether on not to finish her sentence. She took another sip of wine and the alcohol won out. "He did come very close to asking me to dinner though. The poor man was terrified of what his life post-surgery would be and was looking at me as if to ask would I be his Florence Nightingale."

"Well if he was looking for company and red-headed doctors are his preference, you could have always sent him back to Weaver. " her laughter at that statement sounded like music to his ears. She was turning red from it and covering her face while shaking her head.

"I didn't have it in me to be that cruel. The poor man will have been through enough after tomorrow. " She was still smiling at him as she spoke, a very good sign. The wine and scotch were helping her relax and he was savoring every moment in her presence.

"She actually asked the man if it was his upcoming performance that caused the anxiety attack and all he could do was fake a laugh and then look at me in terror. I think he's just lucky she didn't realize he had been in the fertility clinic, she might have offered to ah, give him a hand if she had."

A look of horror crossed Romano's face at that. Kerry Weaver and anything related to sex were two things that did not go together.

"Well Lizzie, thanks for that disturbing visual, I'll probably have nightmares now." He reached for his drink, trying to wash away the thought with alcohol. Elizabeth was leaned back in her chair laughing at him now. Done with her meal and back to scotch, she was visibly relaxed. A far more pleasant visual than the one her story had painted. Romano wondered how far he could push his luck.

"I'm thrilled to see you took my dress preferences to heart, I didn't think you were listening. " Elizabeth glared at him for that. He knew damn well that she wasn't dressing for him, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate it.

"You're right, I wasn't listening. I had this picked out before I left my flat this morning." Another sip of her drink. This had to be her fourth, and they hadn't even served dessert yet. He wondered what her tolerance was considering what she was drinking.

"Well, none the less you look lovely in it." There was a hint of sincerity that his voice normally lacked and Elizabeth blushed ever so slightly at it. A quiet thank you was all he got out of her.

Romano turned the conversation towards far less dangerous, her taste for single malt. A topic that elicited a genuine smile and stories about time spent with her grandfather and godfather, both avid scotch drinkers. For her 18th birthday, they had taken her and her godbrother to Islay with the intent of drinking their way through the tiny island. Her grandfather, being chief of staff at the time, had dumped his workload on her father for the week and laughed at his son's displeasure at being cut out of Elizabeth's birthday plans. Romano couldn't help but laugh at the stories that followed, her grandparents had wanted a daughter and ended up with a son instead. So when Elizabeth came along, they took great joy in informing her father that he'd finally done something right.

Romano was pleased to have stumbled upon a topic that she was keen on. Getting Elizabeth to open up about her life was a delight, her love of her family apparent in her tales. Pity he had to put his foot in his mouth and ruin the mood.

"So what would your grandfather think of all this, you starting over from the beginning?"

Elizabeth fixed him with an icy glare. He regretted the question instantly. While she had never complained about the setback, it could not have been easy for her. Romano knew he could have never started over, preferring to go somewhere that allowed him to keep his pride intact. Asking what the Patriarch of her surgical family would think about having to start over after he had fired her was foolish. If Elizabeth's grandfather was anything like her father, then Romano knew what the answer would be.

Elizabeth sat there stewing on the question. A storm of emotions passed over her face as she downed the last of her scotch.

"Oh I don't know Robert," venom lacing his name as she said it, "he'd probably ask what all of us are wondering. Why did you fire me, knowing I wanted to stay in Chicago?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

AN: I own nothing except my love of Islay whisky.

To the lovely people reviewed, thank you.

Their eyes were locked and she'd be damned if she was the first to look away. Not this time.

Elizabeth was fuming. The past few months had been some of the hardest of her career, having to swallow her pride and, yet again, work twice as hard as anyone to stay at County. She should have been used to it though, coming from the old boys' club that was surgery in England. But having Romano, the man responsible for dragging her to American and then making her start over, ask her what her grandfather would think of it was the last straw. Maybe she had reached her breaking point or maybe it was the alcohol she had consumed, but at that moment she despised the man more than ever and couldn't care less if he knew it.

Romano blinked. He leaned back into his chair, a look on his face she couldn't decipher. He inhaled deeply and then let out a great sigh, it was as if he was deflating a little with it. She placed the look, he was chagrined.

And very slowly as if each word was painful he said, "Gee I don't know Elizabeth, maybe I didn't want to waste my time sponsoring a surgeon who had no desire to work with me or had such a complete lack of respect for me."

She felt as if she had been slapped. Her mouth hung open slightly as she tried to process his words.

"I, on the other hand, had a great deal of respect for you, to the point where I put my own reputation on the line and brought you to America. Got you away from that old boys' club that you were going so unnoticed in."

For once in her life, Elizabeth Corday was at a loss for words. No witty remark, no scathing reply ready on her lips. What kind of response could she even give to a man who saw the year of their lives working together, so differently from her. She looked away and tried to compose herself, now painfully aware of the other occupants of the table. This was not a conversation that should have ever taken place in such a public setting, and certainly not after the amount of alcohol she had consumed. In vino veritas. Perhaps she should say another prayer to St Bibiana. It couldn't hurt at this point.

Elizabeth knew he was still looking at her, waiting patiently for some kind of response when his pager went off. She held her breath as he checked it. It went off again.

He stood up and looked down at her, his guard was up. A mask of indifference.

"Well Elizabeth you seem to be in luck, I've been paged to the OR. No need to tax your mind by coming up with a response. You're free to continue painting me as the villain in this." And with that Romano walked off.

Elizabeth was frozen in place, trying to ignore the looks her dinner companions were giving her. She heard them muttering amongst themselves, wondering what she had done to earn Rocket Romano's ire. Well if they figured it out she'd love to know.

When she regained the use of her senses, she went into flight mode. Get out of the room, get air, and put this evening behind her. Propelling herself forward, she didn't stop until she was ensconced in the back of a cab.

The ride back to her flat had been a blur, her mind running a mile a minute attempting to process what Romano had said to her. She barely realized she had unlocked her flat and poured another scotch, in for a penny in for a pound after all. It was 9:30. Still so early. And an empty flat. She longed for the days in London where she could walk up to her god brother's flat and ask him to make it all make sense. Andrew. She could call Andrew. Sure it was 3:30 in the morning there, but she had no one else to call. Peter was no longer an option, her father's dislike of Romano made him unbiased at best, she had no desire to wake up her godparents least they suggest going to mass, and her mother was out of the question on principle. So she dialed a number she knew by heart.

Three rings. Four rings. And then-

"I. Am. Not. On. Call." A weary voice responded.

"It's Elizabeth, don't hang up. "

"Lizabeth? What, what time is it?" The voice on the phone was groggy, clearly, she had woken him up.

"Early for you, not so late for me. I'm sorry about the time, but I didn't know who else to call."

"You're clearly not alright to be calling at the wee hours of the morning. Your not, your not hurt are you? I mean-"

"I know. Upset, not actually hurt. Andrew I just. Everything is falling down around me. I didn't know where to turn to."

"Well, I'll put on the kettle, and you best start at the beginning."

And she did. Elizabeth broke down. About starting over, about her M M, about breaking up with Peter, and then about her evening with Romano. Letting it all out felt cathartic.

"So It sounds like Romano has legitimate issues with you, there's got to be a reason for that."

"Andrew he's just so difficult-"

He gave a loud snort at that.

"Elizabeth, I love you dearly, but God knows you're one of the most difficult people I know. Stubborn to a fault and a desire to prove yourself that will rub the best of men the wrong way. I'd have hated you with a passion in med school if you weren't my god sister. So maybe, just maybe, there's more to his side than you're letting on."

She was quiet for a while after that. Elizabeth knew she called Andrew for a reason, after a lifetime of friendship he had become very good at seeing the things she didn't want to admit about herself.

"Look, Lizabeth, you talked about having issues with Romano while he was your sponsor. So what really happened. Don't give me the abridged version, I've heard that already. You had a great deal of respect for the man when he was in London, enough to follow him to another country. Something changed in America and you've never said what. And he's difficult is _not_ an answer. That's just the pot calling the kettle black."

"I. I might have," could she say it, the full story. The going behind Romano's back, multiple times now that she really thought about it. If she couldn't be honest with Andrew though, then who was left. "I might have bollocked it up."

"Go on."

And she did. All the things she left out of the rushed phone calls, the letters home. Things she felt she shouldn't tell her family. Circumventing Romano on the Beaumont case, the poor performance review, taking his HemoAid drugs and starting her own study, willingly butting heads with the man. And then the day at Doc Magoo's. She had only told Peter about that.

Andrew let out a low whistle. It was quite a bit to take in.

"So, I know I'm supposed to hate the man on principle, but do you think maybe you earned a wee bit of his ire?"

Elizabeth tried to interrupt but he was ready for her.

"Think of it this way, if you pulled any of that while working for your father, what would have happened? I can't imagine Uncle Charles being thrilled with you. I know you've said Romano let those issues go, but it sounds like he didn't. And frankly, I'm not surprised. I wouldn't hire you after that year."

"Excuse me? How is this my fault?" This was not the way Elizabeth had envisioned the call going. She had wanted reassurances, and instead, she was being poked with the proverbial stick.

"Ugh. You've gotten thick living amongst the Americans, haven't you? The Beaumont case. You went behind his back to work with another surgeon, in a different specialty, on Romano's patient. You knew he was mad at you for that."

"He apologized! Told me I did the right thing, focusing on the patient." She was indignant.

"And did you apologize for circumventing him?"

Her silence was all the answer he needed to continue. Andrew picked apart everything she had told him and presented to her how he saw everything, how Romano had probably seen things. How she had foolishly put her life in danger on the paramedic ride-along, lucky to have made it out alive after jacking up a building that was falling down around her. Attempting to figure out how she had taken Romano's invite to work on his HemoAid study as permission to take the HemoAid and do her own study with a different doctor. Without asking him. Quite the slap in the face. He told her she had lost her mind by not taking the promotion Romano had offered in his study. It had been a professional olive branch when she had been in the wrong.

They finally came to the elephant in the room of Romano asking her out. The only part where Andrew was more cross with Romano than with her.

"Honestly Andrew I was blindsided. I thought he wanted to talk about the HemoAid study or my fellowship, I didn't know he was going to proposition me." Elizabeth was exhausted at this point. She's lost track of time and didn't know how long she'd been on the phone with Andrew, who bless, hadn't complained about the call once.

"What was the man thinking, surely there are easier ways to find someone to sleep with you than hitting on someone who relies on you for a visa. I mean I can't fault the man for finding you attractive, he is intelligent after all, but I thought he was intelligent enough to realize that acting on that attraction would be a mistake." Men asking Elizabeth out had always been a touchy subject with Andrew. A consequence of having grown up together was a protective streak and he never thought anyone was quite good enough for Elizabeth, and he often took great joy in taking the mick out of her past boyfriends. So her boss and visa sponsor making a pass at her got his hackles up.

"It made me miss working for my father, to be honest. No one at St Thomas's would have dared ask me out with him as their boss." They both had a laugh at this. Elizabeth had snuck out of the house on more than one occasion to avoid her father meeting a boyfriend and often had Andrew cover for her.

"The way he asked me out made me feel a little mortified, it was so close to what I said to Peter the first time, only far more sincere. "

"Oh I'm sure the man sincerely wanted you to get on your knees, but what does that have to do with you asking out Benton?"

"I uh, didn't necessarily ask Peter out on a date and I might have been more lascivious than called for. I uh, I flat out propositioned him. Basically, everything I said to Peter, Romano said to me, only Romano said it in a way that made it clear he was interested in actually dating me whereas I was only interested in sleeping with Peter."

Andrew went quiet at this, so quiet that Elizabeth was sure she could have heard a pin drop.

"You said he propositioned you, not that he asked you out on a proper date. Although I suppose anytime your visa sponsor asks you on a date be considered a proposition. So you think he was genuinely interested?"

"Based on how poorly he reacted to finding out that Peter and I were dating, I'd say so. It didn't help that I lied about dating colleagues, I just panicked and didn't know what to say."

This elicited an audible groan from Andrew along several choice words muttered a little too quietly for her to hear.

"I really should have poured something stronger than tea for this tale of yours and I'd do it now if I didn't have to be at my parents for breakfast soon. My mother can smell alcohol a mile away and I'm sure you don't want me explaining why I'd need a drink this early in the morning." Andrew was laughing now, a low chuckle of frustration and sleep deprivation. "Corday," the laughter took on a hysteric tone, "you lied about dating colleagues, to a colleague, while dating a colleague. Shall I just call up the BBC and tell them I've found their next storyline for Casualty?"

Elizabeth was laughing now as well. She had been hit with how ridiculous it all sounded. Unfortunately, she couldn't take back her actions. It was far too late for that and she didn't imagine that Romano would ever trust her again.

" I really have bollocked it up, haven't I? I never meant to act as if I was just looking for a meal ticket out of London, but somewhere along the line that apparently was what I projected. "

" I'm curious, call it sleep deprivation if you must, but I'm curious if you'd ever have given Romano a chance." He paused long enough for her to think about the question. If Peter wasn't in the equation what would she have done?

There was no denying it Romano was an intelligent man, easily her equal. And he took great pleasure in giving as good as she got. He'd never been one to shy away from a verbal challenge with her. Few men were willing to take that risk, lest they be proven lacking. But Romano had always demanded more from her. And that was the greatest difference. But would she have gone out with him?

" Andrew, I don't know. He's not exactly my normal type-" A loud snort came through the phone.

"If by normal type you mean men that you can bully and look good on your arm-"

"Hey! I don't comment on that cow of a girlfriend you've got."

"She's not a cow Elizabeth!" His protests could not be heard though, over the mooing noises Elizabeth was making at him. Their conversation has devolved into good-natured ribbing, an easy back and forth honed by years of practice.

Elizabeth glanced at the clock, it was almost midnight for her which meant 6 am for Andrew. Christmas Day in London. Christmas Day with the Cameron's started with morning mass, determined by if her godfather Malcolm managed to get him and Andrew Christmas Day off at the hospital. The life of surgeons.

"Do you and Uncle Malcolm have to go into work at all? Or does Auntie Helena get her wish for Christmas Mass?"

"Da has the day off, I'm on call tonight though. I should probably make coffee at this rate, can't fall asleep in the middle of Mass or it will be my head."

"Your mother does take it all very seriously. I shall be worshiping in the church of surgery tomorrow. I've got a prostatectomy first thing in the morning, a happy Christmas indeed. I should probably get off the phone and try to get some sleep so I'm not nodding off during the procedure, no need to give Romano a reason to have a go at me. If I'm lucky I'll manage to catch my father on the phone before I leave for work. " Elizabeth was tired now that she had laid herself bare. Trying to shut her brain off for a few hours of sleep was going to be a Herculean task, but there was no other option.

"That sounds like a horrible Christmas. Look, before you go why don't you open what I sent for Christmas? You did get your gifts right?"

What were another five minutes? Elizabeth got up from the couch and walked over to the small pile of boxes that had arrived from London. She pulled out the one that she knew to be from Andrew's family.

"Fine, but only if you open what I sent you."

For a few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were boxes being opened and paper being shredded. Elizabeth's godparents had sent two things; a beautiful sweater that her godmother had knit and a skirt from Kinlock Anderson in the Cameron tartan. There was also a note that said "Give the Americans hell". She missed them dearly and knew what she would wear Christmas Day. And then there was Andrew's present.

"What the bloody hell have you done!" Laughter was the response. Sitting In front of her was a laptop. She knew where this was going and groaned.

"Now all you have to do is sign up for the internet and get a bloody email. So much easier than waiting on the post or even calling at all hours of the night. In fact, you can sign up for instant messenger, and then we can talk even more. I expect you to have gotten internet set up in time for Hogmanay. "

Elizabeth had resisted getting a computer for a while. Home so rarely and preferring to handwrite letters, a habit leftover from her days in boarding school, she had put off any serious thoughts about email. Clearly, her family had not. Even her father had an email at this point. She caved.

"If I must. I can't promise it will be in time for Hogmanay though. Now hurry up and open your own present."

She had bought him an airline voucher with enough money on it for a round trip between London and Chicago.

" I won't have any real vacation time for the foreseeable future, but I know you're due for time off this summer and thought you could take a holiday in Chicago. Help me give the Americans hell and all that."

Silence had fallen. Both keenly aware of the vast distance that separated them on a day that was meant to be taken in with family.

"I miss you too, Elizabeth. And I'll see what I can do about a week off this summer. I'll start laying the groundwork with the Chief now for the time off, Williamson likes to know well in advance or he won't give it too you. It might have to be fall since half the surgeons have kids who will want a summer holiday somewhere. Chicago won't know what hit it."

"It's one of the few times where I wished you worked for my father, he'd be easier to harass for the leave."

"I think your grandfather would turn over in his grave if a Corday and a Cameron ever worked in the same hospital. Something about the hospital would be burnt to the ground within a week."

"This is very true. I guess it's time to end the call now. Give everyone my love. "

"I shall. Naturally, I'll leave out your reason for calling. Love you Elizabeth."

"Love you too Andrew." She did not want the call to end. It was harder than she thought to say goodbye on what was now Christmas Day.

"Hey." He could tell she was becoming melancholy, "You've got this. It's been a tough time lately, but you've never let that stop you before. So give the Americans hell Corday."

And with that, the call was over and Elizabethan alone with her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

AN: Yet again, I own nothing. And thank you if you've reviewed it.

The sun had just started to peek through the blinds, he wasn't ready to wake up yet. The bed was warm and she was so soft, so comforting. He allowed his eyes to open just a sliver. Her hair was spread across the pillow, a fiery cascade of curls that he could bury his head into, the light of the sun slowly illuminating the slender curves of her body, her hair, her face, her hand upon the pillow. He pulled her closer into his embrace. A glint in the light caught his eye. A delicate and slender hand, her left hand, glistening in the morning sun. The ring he had placed upon her finger. He sighed, a contented man. She turned, waking up as she did so, eyes fluttering awake as she looked at him.

"Hello, sweetie" and then she kissed him good morning, the hand with the sparkling ring tracing the contours of his face. His beautiful wife. His wife. His Lizzie.

Lizzie.

Robert Romano's woke with a start.

Gretel had her paws up on the bed, licking and nuzzling his face demanding his attention. The alarm still had 15 minutes on it and he groaned at the realization that it was all a dream. She was not in his bed. She never had been.

Gretel was very insistent. She loved the morning attention Robert gave her and often tried to get into the forbidden bed for a good snuggle before the alarm before he went into work mode. But not today. Out of bed and downstairs, before his brain could process his actions, he made Gretel her breakfast before starting his coffee.

Robert was no stranger to dreams about beautiful women. Elizabeth had featured in several since he had met her, he wasn't blind after all. But leaning over his kitchen counter with his head in his hands he was forced to admit a troubling fact, she had never before appeared as his wife in these dreams. No woman had. He's certainly fantasized about her, how she would feel beneath him as he moved inside her, but never waking up beside her as his wife. He was left feeling bereft as never before.

Just make the coffee, read the paper, and then get ready for work. No need to think about something that will never happen. A stupid infatuation with an unavailable woman. It was just a dream. A dream he didn't think he would ever forget. Nor could he forget the previous night.

Dinner with Elizabeth at the Surgeon's Gala. They had been having a good time till he asked a stupid question that she was sure to take offense to. His pager saved him from what he was sure to be a scathing response, but only put him in more hot water by the end of the night.

Fuck Peter Benton. The man didn't wait for him before starting the surgery. Demesa has blown his staples by eating like a hobbit at a feast and was found passed out in a storeroom in the ER. What a lovely Christmas Eve. Robert has been pissed to get the page and even more pissed by the time he arrived at CCGH. The taper on that turd was being accused of being drunk. Drunk and then taking a swing at Benton. Benton who deserved it for so many reasons. Benton who had possessed his Lizzie, and never aspired to be more than a passing flirtation. He wished he'd never have met the man and wished he hadn't been so blinded by rage when he took a swing at him. He was a black belt for Christ's sake and he knocked himself out with a misplaced swing.

This was going to be a hell of a day.

The Gardner surgery was scheduled for 9 am and he had to work with her. He didn't want to see her. She would never see past her hurt pride and acknowledge that his pride was hurt as well. And yet he still wanted to work with her, she was brilliant after all. It was why he sponsored her in the first place.

Robert spent the rest of his morning doing his best to not dwell on the previous night. He was going through the motions of getting ready for work and playing with Gretel when his phone rang. He knew it had to be his sister trying to catch him before he left. Robert has made the mistake of telling Gwen his Christmas Eve plans. He did not want to deal with her insistent questions right now, so he let it go to the answering machine. Sure enough, it was Gwen.

"Rob, answer the phone. You couldn't Possibly have left for work yet. It's Christmas and we all want to talk to you. Roooobbbberttttt. Fine, be like that. We only send Gretel love, you have to call back for yours."

Older sisters were obnoxious. Gretel had heard her name on the machine and was now looking at him expectantly.

"Hey girl" she leaned against his leg and looked up at him. "Ok, I'll take the hint." He sat down on the floor with her and she instantly rolled over for a belly rub. Spoiled. But that's what dogs were for, spoiling and loving.

"Who's my girl, you are. Yes, you are. " Robert had the universal dog voice down, full of love and affecting. "You love me don't you Gretel." At least one curly-haired girl did, pity it was the one with four legs.

"Ok girl, it's time for work" she jerked upright at the word work. Work was an evil word that Gretel understood all too well.

He got up off the floor and brushed himself off before putting on his suit jacket and grabbing his coat. Robert was out the door and in his car headed toward County quicker than he could say, Lizzie Corday.

* * *

Robert's first stop when he got to County was the surgeons' lounge for coffee. Anything to keep him busy and away from her. She would be his New Year's resolution, to get over this infatuation that had gone on long enough. Coffee in hand he went to check on his first patient of the morning, Mr. Gardner who had just arrived.

"Mr. Gardner, how are you doing this morning?"

"Well, it could be better. Just ready to get this over with." Gardner seemed distracted. Who could blame him though.

Robert could tell people we're looking at him, probably the nurses and probably talking about last night. He could hear the gossip now. Dr. Romano was drunk, Dr. Romano tried to hit a resident. Just thinking about it made his mood darken and it showed to Mr. Gardner who was now eyeing him wearily. The man was looking for an out of the conversation and the moment he found one was evident.

"Merry Christmas Dr. Corday. " Gardner was visibly relieved to see her walking up behind Romano. Yet again looking for her to be his savior. Robert felt her presence before he saw her and was gathering all his nerve to face her and be indifferent.

"Happy Christmas." Her voice was neutral as she greeted their patient before she turned to address him.

"Good morning Dr. Romano"

Robert turned to look at her as she greeted him and realized instantly that putting this woman out of his mind might be impossible. She wore a small, but genuine smile for him and he could feel his resolve crumbling away. Elizabeth was wearing a fitted royal blue sweater with a subtle design he couldn't make out, and a calf-length tartan skirt with boots. She held herself composed and regally. As beautiful as she looked in her ensemble he could tell she wore it like armor, against him or the world he couldn't tell. Frankly, he didn't care. She took his breath away and his dream came rushing back to him.

"Dr. Corday. You look very...festive. Is your mother by chance Scottish? " It was all he could manage, trying not to think about his dream or the feelings seeing her provoked. His question was rewarded with a broad smile and a deep laugh.

"No, my mother is not Scottish, although I would pay a very large sum to see you ask her that. The tartan and sweater are gifts from my godparents actually and I thought appropriate for today." Happiness flitted across her face at the mention of family.

"Ah, well something tells me I wouldn't survive long enough to enjoy the money." Any woman married to Charles Corday was to be considered dangerous and avoided at all costs. However, Mr. Gardener chose this moment to interrupt.

"What an interesting present, did they say why they picked it?"

Elizabeth turned to look at their patient who dared comment and gave a rather terrifying smirk.

"Oh yes, their note said to 'Give the Americans hell'. My whole family has been very fond of saying that since I moved here. " A very dangerous smirk. A not to be trusted smirk.

Mr. Gardner had an uneasy laugh at this, clearly unsure if he should continue to ask questions.

"Well Lizzy, I think you've been doing just that since you arrived. " Robert couldn't help himself, he liked having her attention even when she was clearly dressed for battle.

"Gentlemen if you'll excuse me, there is coffee calling my name." And she was gone.

* * *

The Gardner surgery had gone smoothly and Robert had regained a sense of control over his emotions by the time it was done. The OR was where he thrived, and this time was no exception. Elizabeth however seemed off. Off enough for Shirley to comment on it after the surgery.

"Tell me, Dr. Romano, were you mean to her last night as well?" Shirley barely looked up from her notes, electing to raise an eyebrow at him instead.

" Ha. Ha. Ha. I don't know why you'd think I was mean to anyone." He gave her a look in return and let her get away with the comment. He liked working with Shirley and didn't want her to hold last night against him. It seemed she wasn't going to give up though.

"Seriously Dr. Romano, she seems... .off. Did she seem ok last night? Do you think we could be seeing a hungover Dr. Corday?" Shirley pressed the issue again.

They were walking down the hall now to the main desk. Coffee was in order for him and Shirley had notes to complete and patients to check on. Elizabeth was walking out of the recovery room, looking every bit like a woman alone in the world. Robert and Shirley shared a look. It was so obvious that something was wrong with Elizabeth, and Robert had a very good idea that he dared not share with Shirley. He had great respect for her, but the woman was an OR nurse, a breed of gossips of the highest degree. As they approached the desk, Elizabeth looked up as if she knew they were talking about her.

"What." Her tone was short and her face relayed a desire to be left alone.

"What a joyful mood you have on this Christmas day, Lizzie." Robert was trying to be nonchalant and hoped that Shirley would go along with it. Elizabeth's nostrils flared in response, she was in no mood to speak to anyone. Robert took a careful look at her, she didn't seem to be showing signs of a hangover so all the wine and scotch she had the night before apparently had no effect.

"Well," Shirley was pressing the issue and Robert didn't know where this conversation would end, a train wreck waiting to happen probably. "Well, we just couldn't help but notice that you weren't yourself in the OR today."

"I wasn't myself in the OR?" Every word was enunciated and a sneer formed on her face as she said it. "Pray tell, whatever do you mean?".

Robert and Shirley looked at each other, a silent game of chicken going on and the first to look away would have to face the wrath of the angry Dr. Corday. Robert lost, turns out Shirley was made of stronger stuff than he thought.

"What Shirley means to say is... .we're ah, concerned. You seemed quiet, not yourself in the OR today." Robert was saying a silent prayer that she wouldn't bring up dinner last night.

She was quiet. Robert could tell she was mulling over the question, to answer or not answer, what to say and how to say it. Very briefly a look of defeat passed across her face, her lower lip trembling. She looked down at her watch before looking back at Robert and Shirley.

"If you must know, its noon here which means its 6 in London. Right about now, my family is enjoying a cocktail hour before settling down to Christmas dinner. French 75's are being consumed and my father is probably setting up the camera for a family picture. At 7 everyone will sit down at the table and pull the crackers before tucking into the meal. Whereas I'm three, close to four thousand miles away removing a man's prostate. Its Christmas and –" Elizabeth's voice broke and momentarily Robert didn't know if she would be able to finish her sentence " I miss my family dreadfully. So there, that is what is wrong with me. " She turned away, looking anywhere but at the pair of them. "If you'll excuse me, I have patients to check on." And with that, she walked off.

Robert and Shirley had the sense to look ashamed. They knew it was her second Christmas away from London, but never before had she given any indication at how hard she took the separation. Robert resolved to give her space for the time being. Clearly, the holidays were a trying time for her and he had no desire to provoke her in this state.

* * *

That evening Robert sat in front of the fire absentmindedly stroking Gretel, who was using his knee as a pillow. He had been putting off the phone call long enough and it was time to man up. He needed to call his mother, a task normally not dreaded if it weren't for the fact that she was staying with his sister for Christmas. Gwen, his older sister by 3 years was far too clever for his liking, she would instantly know something was wrong. Pity he had to call her to speak to his mother. Robert took a sip of his wine, a little liquid courage wouldn't go amiss and dialed his sister. She answered on the first ring.

"Baby brother! Is that you?"

"Waiting anxiously by the phone I see. Tell me, how many people have you said that to today in hopes it was me?" That got a laugh out of her.

"Four, and two of them were trying to sell me something, hold on a minute." She was being pestered by people at her house. "Yes, Mama its Rob." She had been ambushed.

"Merry Christmas Robert." His mother had taken the phone from Gwen and he could hear his sister complain in the background.

"Merry Christmas. Are you having a good time in New York?"

"I am, but it would be better if you were here. Maybe next year you can host Christmas in that big house of yours." A double-sided remark, trying to slyly find out if he was seeing someone. Someone who could play hostess at Christmas. Robert knew better than to fall for that line of questioning.

"You're all welcome anytime, I'd love to have you over." That earned him a hmpf. His mother knew not to directly ask about his love life though and normally left Gwen to the task. Robert could hear Gwen pestering their mother in the background, "Ask him about last night." Having no desire to have this conversation with either of them, he offered up half the truth.

"I got paged to the OR last night. A patient that I performed a gastroplasty on decided not to follow the post-op rules and busted all of his staples. Needless to say, I got the page and had to deal with it. The man gorged himself on a full Christmas dinner in a storage room in the ER."

"GROSS Uncle Rob!" Anna, his niece had picked up another phone somewhere in the house and was listening in. That or his mother had put the phone on speaker. His money was on Anna listening secretly, she was a teenager after all.

"Anna, get off the phone! Your uncle won't spill his guts if you're listening."

"What a charming picture you paint Mom. I just wanted to ask about his hot date since you weren't getting around to it" Great. The sister was now using the niece to get to him.

"Anna, I don't know what your mother was telling you, but there was no hot date."

"Well duh Uncle Rob, you were in the OR. But you were supposed to have a hot date, that's what Mom said." Brother and sister groaned at the same time, but for very different reasons. And now their mother was laughing in the background.

"Robert, I'm leaving you to the mercy of your sister. It was good to hear from you, and I hope she was willing to reschedule." Gwen and Anna were the ones laughing now as his mother got off the phone before he could respond. Three against one was never good odds when it came to the women in his family.

"Well ladies, I think I've been ganged up on enough for tonight. It was wonderful as always to be harassed by the lot of you. Gwen, tell David I said hello and that if he needs a break from the three of you he is always welcome here. "

"Very funny baby brother. Did Lizzy get paged as well?"

"Gwen." He let out a heavy sigh. " Please don't. Needless to say last night was not what I had hoped and my complete lack of social skills around this woman did not help either. So please, just drop it. Think of it as a Christmas present. " Robert waited for her response, she was quiet, an unusual thing for anyone in their family.

"Ok." Gwen's response was so soft he almost didn't hear it. "I won't pick at you for now. Come Valentine's day you're fair game again though or I'll drag the full story out of you." He laughed at her antics. They were always picking on each other.

"Goodnight Gwen." Robert hung up on his sister and looked down at Gretel.

"Well girl, it's just you and me again."

Robert finished his wine before heading up to bed, worried about what his dreams would have in store for him, and determined to give Elizabeth Corday all the space possible.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

AN: I own nothing.

Some quotes were taken from season 5, episodes 11 and 12.

* * *

Robert Romano and Elizabeth Corday had been involved in a very intricate dance since Christmas. Each was avoiding the other in a series of carefully planned steps, hoping the other wouldn't notice, hoping the rest of the staff wouldn't notice. Naturally, the nurses had picked up on something, but they tended to believe that Romano had been drunk at the Gala and offended Corday, considering the state he had arrived at the OR in on Christmas Eve.

Elizabeth was still reeling from her phone call with Andrew, desperately trying to come to terms with her behavior now that it had been presented in a new light. Elizabeth did not like what she found. A deep-seated belief that she was smarter and more talented than her peers, that she knew better. Elizabeth did not. Otherwise, she wouldn't be starting over, a healthy serving of humble pie if there ever was one. Elizabeth knew that if she wanted to alleviate herself of this feeling of disgust, she would have to work at making real changes in how she dealt with things. A daily dose of humility to balance out the long-internalized pride.

Romano would never accept an apology. Far too little, far too late. Her actions had spoken far louder than her words the past year, and she would have to work harder than ever show him that she had taken his words to heart. Most importantly, she would have to do it for herself. She couldn't just feel sorry that she had lost her meal ticket to an internship free visa. A bridge more than likely permanently burned. All she could do was work hard and do her best to acknowledge her defects and better herself.

Conveniently she had a topic she could write about, her MM and the defense of her actions. Taking up a New Year's resolution to improve herself lead her to the realization that her mistakes as an intern could open a forum of dialogue on how to improve the system overall. It also gave her a ready-made distraction from the fact that Romano was actively avoiding her, something she knew she deserved.

Andrew, bless, had done his best to be supportive. She had gone through with the promise of setting up internet and email and had spent her New Year's Eve corresponding with him. To her immense surprise, he had managed to contact a local liquor store, and at 12:01 on January first, a dark-haired delivery man stepped across her threshold with a bottle of Lagavulin and a handful of coal. They had a good laugh about being first footed, and she took it as a sign that this would be a better year. The Lagavulin got her through several late nights writing her paper, which was now thankfully finished. Now she just needed someone to read it. That's where Peter came in.

"You hated it." She was trying to keep the disdain from creeping into her voice.

"Well, no, I just... haven't had time to read it thoroughly yet." Peter was very clearly trying to weasel out of giving his actual opinion. She hated it when men couldn't be direct with her. Romano always had that ability, a quality she had admired in England.

"Do you think I have a shot at getting it published?" They were walking through the ER, weaving in and out of staff and patients. She was desperately trying to get an actual thought out of Peter.

"Well, it is controversial." He was hesitating again, a habit of Peter's that she was growing to detest. Elizabeth wished he could just spit the words out; she knew he had them waiting underneath the surface.

"And that's bad?" She felt like she was pulling teeth now.

"For you, right now, oh yeah." There was a slight smile on his face and a hint of amusement in his voice. Elizabeth shot him a peeved look as he turned his head, trying to hide his amusement at her predicament.

"We'll see if Anspaugh agrees." And she was off to find a second opinion.

Unfortunately for her, he did.

Elizabeth's conversation with Anspaugh had not gone the way she had intended. She could tell he was frustrated with her, and instead of listening to his advice, she had gone on the defense and suggested that he didn't like the paper because it painted County General in a poor light. Not her best move. Another work relationship she needed to invest some time on.

The day did not get any better; the ER had taken a significant hit. The Chief of the ER, Amanda Lee, had turned out to be a complete fraud. She had cracked when Dr. Greene had started asking questions about her past and locked him in a room with a hysterical patient. This naturally took place after Elizabeth had worked with Lee on a patient they had lost. The hits just keep on coming. Elizabeth needed to tell Anspaugh, and she could only hope he didn't hold their previous conversation against her. So, she took a deep breath and knocked on his office door.

He was on the phone trying to do damage control, and they had placed him on hold.

"I thought you should know, um, a, a patient died under hers and my care today." Elizabeth's voice was soft and almost deferential.

Anspaugh let out a great sigh at her statement.

"Well, that's just what I didn't need to hear." He sat down to take it all in, still listening for the person on the other end of the phone to pick up.

"However, I don't believe that either of us made any errors." Elizabeth looked down at this. Her track record recently left her feeling very humble, and she let it show. Her pride. Something she should serve up on a plate more often, something they all should. So, she pushed forward, knowing that this needed to be said.

"I've also been thinking about what you said earlier, and eh, um, I intend to pursue the publication of my paper." Anspaugh took a long look at her before she continued. "In the light of the Amanda Lee debacle, it's obvious none of us are above reproach." She had his full attention now, and he was considering what she had to say.

"I admire your directness. Alright, give me a list of the journals you'd like to submit to, and I'll attach a cover letter. "

Elizabeth didn't know which saint oversaw fixing workplace fuck ups, but she said a silent prayer of thanks hoping there was one.

"Thank you, Donald." She left his office to deal with the maelstrom brewing with legal.

* * *

If only she knew this would be the calm before the storm. She had submitted her paper to several medical journals and was feeling good about how her year was starting. Elizabeth had been trying to maintain deference to her colleagues that she had lacked before. Quietly doing her work, going out of her way to not butt heads with anyone, even Edison, who was universally disliked, could tell he was being treated differently. There had been a bright side to all of this, help in the form of an egger med student. Bless Lucy Knight and her drive to succeed; it meant less scut work for herself. No more drains to pull.

The doors opened behind Elizabeth and Ms. Knight. Romano came strolling in.

"Ah, Ms. Knight, I see you've found your way to Dr. Corday." Robert stopped beside Elizabeth as she was going over a chart, trying not to look at him.

"Absolutely. All the pre-op labs were in the charts when I arrived; I nearly kissed her." Elizabeth thought for sure he'd have a Romano-esk remark to that. But he didn't. He merely walked around the bed to check the IV. Odd. She wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though.

"I uh, insisted that you get a decent student, I knew you could use some back up with the scut." Robert was looking at her now, and she felt like a deer in the headlights.

"Well, I live for scut." Lucy was making a face as she pulled another drain. Bless. But Robert hasn't taken his eyes off Elizabeth, and it was making her nervous. This conversation was the most prolonged interaction outside of an OR since Christmas, and Elizabeth was unsure what to expect.

"If Ms. Knight actually helps you get finished early, I'd like you to assist this afternoon on a Choledochojejunostomy." Robert was observing her face, waiting for her reply. A slight twinkle in his eyes as he dangled the procedure in front of her.

"Choledochojejunostomy?" Elizabeth perked up. A chance to get back in the OR. Robert smirked the excitement she was trying to hide in her voice, and it grew more pronounced as he moved around the foot of the bed to stand next to her.

"Well, you can say it. Would you like to do it?" For once, Elizabeth could detect no double entendres in his voice, the turn of phrase merely a habit for him at this point. She was stunned and aware that it showed on her face.

"I'm waiting on the other shoe to drop."

"No, no catch. You've suffered enough. I started the groundwork today to see if we can't get your fellowship reinstated, you deserve it."

Elizabeth was floored. Frozen in place, she couldn't even manage to turn and look at Robert as he walked out of the room. He had taken her breath away with another offering of an olive branch. Her brain felt like a skipping record; his words forever being scratched into her mind.

"I'll be damned."

Elizabeth walked out in a haze, almost forgetting that she had a mead student following her. She needed to collect herself and find another task for her student, Ms. Knight. A page to the ER gave her something to focus on, and it was a simple enough teaching case for Lucy. Present it to Peter, and then she could zone out long enough for Robert's words to sink in properly. Their patient wasn't a likely surgical candidate, though; the man claimed to be 140.

Stepping off the elevator, she heard Kerry Weaver calling after her. Elizabeth hadn't been as fond of Weaver since Christmas Eve and had an uneasy feeling about being singled out by her. She didn't know what Weaver wanted to talk about, but she followed her down the hall anyways. Kerry opened the door to exam room one and sat down.

"Elizabeth, this is an uncomfortable topic, but it's been brought to my attention by someone on staff that there has been sexual harassment going on and that you might be able to corroborate it."

"I beg your pardon." Elizabeth's mouth fell open. Again, stunned by the words of a colleague, it took a moment to regain the use of her brain.

"Someone has made a complaint against Dr. Romano, and considering you worked closely with him last year as your sponsor, it was thought that maybe you had witnessed or experienced sexual harassment yourself." Weaver calmly delivered the news, giving Elizabeth a few minutes to digest what she had said.

Sexual harassment. Elizabeth's father had done a fair job of protecting her from it in London. It was usually not worth the risk to harass the boss's daughter. Occasionally there had been lewd remarks about her, but her father had made examples of the worst offenders. Like Mr. Jordan, who had slapped her arse in the hallway one day. In front of her father. Sure, it was her first week, and Jordan had been on holiday for most of it and didn't know who she was, but he was suspended for a month none the less. He ended up quitting on his own rather than risk the word getting out. But sexual harassment from Robert Romano?

"He's outrageous, he can be tasteless, he ah certainly likes to throw his weight around. But ah..." Elizabeth trailed off, shaking her head.

"So, you can't corroborate any instances of sexual harassment?" Kerry was trying to keep a neutral tone and almost failing.

"It's a, very um, American thing if I may say this penchant for turning personal issues into lawsuits." Elizabeth didn't know what Weaver wanted her to say, Robert could be rude, but that was no reason to run for a lawyer.

"The hospital's hope, of course, is for me as alms person to address problems and avoid lawsuits."

"Look, one has to be thick-skinned working around Dr. Romano, but ah, you roll with the punches, don't you. Whoever is complaining may be too fragile to practice medicine at all." Wrong words. Weaver did not like Elizabeth's last remark and took an icy tone.

"Her identity is confidential until I can assess if any action is warranted. It's a delicate business, rarely do I hear the kind of slam dunk where Dr. So and So made overtures sexual advances, she declined, and then he either fired her or cut her funds." Weaver was looking at her intently. She had come to her real point and was looking to see if she had made a chink in Elizabeth's armor. Kerry Weaver was hoping that Elizabeth had dirt on Robert, enough of it to substantiate a sexual harassment claim.

"Right. Uh, Kerry. Is Robert aware of this complaint?" Elizabeth could only hope that Robert didn't think this was her complaint.

"He doesn't know who came to me, although he could figure it out since my first response is to prevent the parties from working together."

"I see." At least Robert wouldn't think it was her complaining, which was not what she needed. Not when he had offered her an olive branch only just this morning.

Elizabeth was quick to leave the ER, the excuse of surgery on her lips as she fled to the elevator. Her Choledochojejunostomy was waiting for her, as was Robert.

The scrub room was full when she arrived, with Anspaugh and Romano in conversation about the surgery. It had been rescheduled once already because of a resident from the ER. Maggie Doyle. Elizabeth knew Maggie must have been the one to make the complaint with the snide remarks Robert was making about allowing the patient a cheeseburger before the surgery. Robert moved on quickly, back to the topic of their exciting surgery. It was sure to be a lengthy procedure.

* * *

It had been a long day, and Elizabeth was almost done. As enjoyable as it was to be back in an OR, she wished her conversation with Weaver hadn't been dominating her thoughts. Thankfully no one seemed to notice. Now it was just one last page to the ER, and she was free. Luck would have it; Maggie Doyle was the one who paged her.

A patient with slash marks to the abdomen and in need of an abdominal exam and sutures. While examining the patient, Doyle brought up the elephant in the room. Romano. She had been having issues with him.

"Kerry spoke to me this morning without actually saying it was you. I uh, don't think I can be of any help." They continued the exam with the ultrasound. Elizabeth was trying to avoid Doyle's eyes; she wanted nothing to do with the complaint.

"You know I was hoping that Romano would cool it if I confronted him, but then he threatened to blast me on my evaluation." Elizabeth was shocked. Robert Romano loved to push buttons but never before had she seen him not back down when someone grew a spine and stood up for themselves. It was why he often pushed people in the first place.

"Dr. Romano can be volatile." Elizabeth was trying to keep her comments at the minimum, not wanting to give Doyle an inch fearing she would take a mile.

"You mean a mean-spirited little power monger." Doyle got her laughing with that one. Robert could very easily be those things, intentionally too.

The patient chose this moment to try and break free from their grasp. And thankfully, he broke the tension in the air.

"Look Um, Romano, he likes to push things to the limit; it's his way of testing people." Elizabeth could tell that Doyle wasn't buying the party line. She was out for blood.

"Guess he thought anything goes with the gay chick."

"Well, I just hope you're not, ah, going out on a limb, he's a star." Elizabeth was ready for this conversation to be over.

"Self-respect is a bitch."

Another dig at Elizabeth. Perhaps she should have worn the tartan today to scare off the nosy Americans. Self-respect is a bitch, indeed. Elizabeth had been thinking a lot about her self-respect recently and just how tangled it was with her pride. It had been cathartic laying herself bare to Andrew, to have her faults and weaknesses brought to light. She had a much better understanding of where exactly was her self-respect started and where her pride ended.

Elizabeth knew what she needed to do.

"Kerry, Kerry, do you have a moment." Elizabeth was chasing Weaver down.

"Uh Mark needed to talk to me, are you on your way out?" Weaver looked impatient, something more important pressing on her.

"How about I buy you breakfast tomorrow?" That got her attention.

"That sounds like more than a minute."

"Well, I've been thinking about your inquiry, and I may have some things to add."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

AN: I own nothing. Thank you to the lovely people who have been reviewing.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Robert Romano had just been informed that there was a sexual harassment complaint against him, delivered by Kerry Weaver no less. The woman had no moral high ground to stand on, considering her willingness to hit on a patient. Great. Just. Fucking. Great. What a way to end the day.

Go home to Gretel and alcohol or go to a bar and have a drink. Max had a case this week, so his go-to drinking buddy was unavailable, and most of his other friends in Chicago either worked long hours like himself or had families to go home to. Nights out with the guys had to be planned, and he sure as hell didn't want to explain why he was calling for a last-minute drink.

Home it was then.

He walked in the door expecting to be greeted by Gretel, and instead, there was silence. Great. Not even his dog to comfort him in his time of need. Where was she anyway? He hung his coat in the entryway and walked through to the lounge; the liquor cabinet was calling his name. He was desperate for a drink. And there he found Gretel.

She was curled up on the leather couch, fast asleep, and dreaming of something if her twitching paws were anything to go by. Usually, Robert didn't allow Gretel on the furniture, she was going to be far too big when she finished growing, and he didn't want to compete for space, but it had been a hell of a day, and he couldn't blame her.

"Gretel, what are you doing?"

The massive hound startled from her slumber and saw Robert looking at her. She was caught in the act. He shook his head and walked past her to make a drink and ignored the fact that she was on the couch. A glass of scotch and a cuddle with Gretel sound perfect, and just this once the cuddle could be on the couch. Drink in hand, he sat down next to her and gave her an expectant look. Gretel got up and rearranged herself, draping her paws and head across Robert's lap. The love of his dog after a horrible day warmed his heart.

He didn't know who to call. Even if he did, he wasn't sure what he'd say. Calling Max was the obvious option. Max was a successful lawyer, and his college roommate, he and Robert had been through a great deal together. Robert was terrified to call a lawyer, though, even one that was his friend. He could see it going over so well. 'Hello Max, I know it's been a while, but today I've been accused by an anonymous coworker of sexual harassment, and I don't know who did it. Don't even know what I've done that they are calling harassment.'

A chill ran down Robert's spine. There was _one_ person that could potentially accuse him. Please not her. Dear God, anyone but her. Elizabeth could have accused him. He'd asked her out while sponsoring her work visa and then fired her weeks later. It didn't matter that her saying no wasn't the reason he fired her, Kerry Weaver would latch on to that like a dog with a bone and be blind to anything else. Robert put his head in his hands and let out a sob. The only woman he had paid any attention to since he met her, and now she was the most likely candidate to be his accuser.

Fuck.

He didn't know if it was her, and wouldn't until tomorrow. _If_ Elizabeth had accused him, then Weaver would have taken steps to keep them from working together. The surgical schedule tomorrow would confirm if it was Elizabeth. One of them would be on call for the ER indefinitely if it were her, the only way to keep them apart without suspending him. Robert made a promise to himself that if Elizabeth weren't his accuser, he would do everything in his power to make up for firing her. Hell, he'd find the funding to reinstate her fellowship.

The scotch was empty, and he had no appetite. How could he eat with the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head, potentially held by a woman he put before all others. He should just go to bed and try to sleep. Robert knew he was going to need his wits about him tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning was long and torturous. Sleep has been elusive, leaving Robert in a fog until his third cup of coffee kicked in. Somehow he had managed to get out the door and to work without having a panic attack. Robert was terrified of the surgical schedule for the day as he stepped into the elevator. His hands were trembling by the time the doors opened onto the surgical floor, his infatuation with Elizabeth Corday could be crushed at any moment. Robert held his breath as he approached the board, looking for who was on call to the ER. It was Edson. Scheduled for surgery were the names Romano and Corday. A weight had lifted from his shoulder; it wasn't her. Robert set out to find Elizabeth. _Lizzy_. Somehow he had to fix the issue of her fellowship, and he would start by telling her.

So far, Robert's morning had gone better than he hoped. Lizzy hadn't accused him of anything, they had an operation planned together, and he had found out who accused him. Maggie Doyle. The ER-resident that picked up a pet patient and wanted to spend some time in surgery seeing things through. Unfortunately, Doyle's surgical skills had been lacking, resulting in the need for at least one of his procedures to be rescheduled for stupid reasons such as letting the patient eat before surgery. She may be competent and respected in the ER, but the only redeeming quality she had shown in her surgical rotation was a backbone. Robert had done his usual poking a prodding to see what her limits were, and very quickly, she told him to fuck off. In those exact words. He could respect that. It just didn't stop him from giving her a lackluster performance review.

Doyle was proving to be a more significant pain in his ass than he thought possible. While the only real grievance she could have was the performance review, it had been suggested to him by Shirley that Maggie Doyle had a list of names. Names she thought would back her up, and apparently, Lizzy's name was on it. Out of the frying pan and into the fryer again. Robert's elation at Lizzy's lack of involvement was dwindling more and more as he heard that Weaver wanted to speak with her. Kerry Weaver was always poking her crutch where it didn't belong. Pity, she didn't trip on it.

* * *

Robert's night was a far cry better than the previous one. Relived that the only real complaint was a poor performance review, he made dinner for two, Gretel was celebrating with him after all. As he sat in front of the fire, he thought back on his surgery with Lizzy. For the first time in months, it felt like when she first came to America, when they were a team. It thrilled Robert, and when he slept that night, it was to the vision of her blue eyes across from him in the OR.

Robert felt so good the next morning that he decided to treat himself to breakfast. Breakfast a Doc Magoo's wasn't much, but it would suffice for the moment. It was almost the weekend, and he could take his mother out to brunch. That idea came crashing down as he walked away from the counter with his food, there sat Kerry Weaver and Elizabeth Corday. It took every ounce of self-control to play it cool while they made their excuses and left. His food tasted like ash as he forced himself to eat it at the table they had just occupied. Robert was on autopilot as he tried to process the numerous outcomes of Weaver's meeting with Elizabeth and was so out of it that he didn't hear Weaver calling his name as he waited for the elevator at work.

"Robert!" He turned to look at her; she was furious and practically foaming at the mouth. "What did you say to her? Do you know how inappropriate it is for you to speak about this investigation? Did you threaten her work visa?"

"Kerry, I have no idea what you're talking about." Robert was trying to remain uninterested in the ravings of the madwoman.

"Yeah, well, we're going to Anspaugh and now. You were way out of line speaking to Elizabeth about this inquiry."

The elevator opened, and Weaver waved at him with her crutch to get in. Robert obliged, believing that she might use it on him. When the doors opened to the surgical floor, Weaver made a beeline to Anspaugh's office and barged right in, barely waiting for Robert to follow her into the room before going off.

"Donald, you won't believe the conversation I had with Elizabeth Corday this morning. I don't know what Robert said to her or threatened her with, but somehow he got her to lie for him."

Thankfully there was a very convenient chair for Robert to sit in because he was sure as hell unable to stand after hearing that. He exchanged a look with Anspaugh, who shared his confusion.

"Dr. Weaver, I haven't spoken to anyone about this matter. I don't know what Dr. Corday has said to you, but I can assure you I had nothing to do with it."

"Oh come on, Robert, you're lying, and we all know it. Why else would she defend you."

Genuine shock registered on Robert's face, apparent enough for even Weaver to notice and be taken aback by it.

"Kerry, why don't you _calmly_ tell us what Elizabeth has said. Robert claims he doesn't know, and if the look on his face is any indicator, I'm willing to believe him." Anspaugh had finally interceded and stepped into the role of mediator. Kerry shot them both a dirty look.

"She said. She said you fired her _for cause_ , which is ridiculous. Elizabeth is an excellent surgeon, and I've seen no actions from her that would give credit to this."

Fired. For. Cause. Three little words that were Robert's salvation, perhaps she had taken his words on Christmas Eve to heart after all.

"She was." Robert's voice was so quiet that the other occupants of the room almost didn't hear him.

"Kerry, what exactly did Elizabeth say?" Anspaugh was questioning her now, equally as curious as Robert about why the British surgeon thought she had been fired.

"Elizabeth said she spent her entire year acting, and I quote 'like an arse who knew better than everyone.' That if she wasn't intentionally butting heads with Robert to his face, she was doing it by going behind his back." anger and disbelief we're evident in Weaver's voice.

"That would sum up her year working with me."

"Well, I don't believe it, Robert. I think you've bullied her into speaking up for you."

"Bully Elizabeth Corday?" Robert was laughing now and Anspaugh shot him a look, silencing him.

"Kerry, did Elizabeth give any examples or incidents to back her story up? Robert never filed any disciplinary reports, so if there is something to look into, I'd like to hear it."

"Well, Donald, she gave several examples, each more ridiculous sounding than the last."

"Get on with it, Kerry."

"Elizabeth said she operated without an Attending-" Donald instantly interrupted her.

"She did. _I_ was the Attending. She was used to operating solo in England and was under the impression the same standards would apply for minor surgery here. I had a very stern conversation with her about what was expected of our residents in the US."

"Oh." Kerry was momentarily deflated at this. "Well, Elizabeth said she brought in an outside surgeon behind Robert's back. A Head and Neck consult for one of their patients."

"Kotlowitz?" Anspaugh's eyebrow went up as he said the name.

"I believe that's the name she gave me."

"Robert, I thought you were on board with that; you made the arrangements with my office to get him temporary privileges." Anspaugh was observing him now, intrigued to find out what actually had taken place.

"I made the arrangements, but only after Dr. Corday presented it to me fait accompli. I had no idea that she had consulted with an outside surgeon or that she spoke to you about it. At that point, Kotlowitz had already examined the patient, and it wouldn't have been right to prevent his involvement."

The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Anspaugh, who had worked with Elizabeth enough to glimpse the depths of her ambitious streak, was shocked but not as much as Weaver. She had to sit down upon realizing that two of the stories so far had not been made up. Anspaugh cleared his voice and asked her if there was more.

"Right. Ah. A bad performance review. Elizabeth said the two of you talked about it and how she could improve, and then she did the opposite of what you suggested."

Robert couldn't help but laugh at the ways Elizabeth had described that.

"Something funny, Robert?"

"Just the way she described that. 'Opposite' wouldn't be my first choice of description, but sure we can go with that. Did she tell you what she did?" Robert shouldn't have been enjoying this, but the anticipation of watching Weaver squirm over Elizabeth's actions in the ER was enough to make him smirk.

"Elizabeth said you invited her to work on a drug study, and instead of taking you up on your offer, she used the drugs to run her own research without your approval."

" _Stole_ the drugs you mean. Yet again, I had no clue what Elizabeth was doing. Ran her study in your little ER as well with your buddy Mark Greene signing off on it. There's no way he was unaware of the fact that she didn't have my blessing to use the Hemoaid drugs, and yet he went along with it anyway. Now I admire her ambition, it's why I sponsored her in the first place, but when I offered her Regional Coordinator for my Hemoaid study, and she turned it down to continue hers, I knew there was a bigger problem."

The room was quiet while Weaver and Anspaugh processed what Robert had told them. Neither could easily believe that Elizabeth Corday had caused multiple issues for Romano.

"Kerry," Anspaugh seemed drained, "was there _anything else_ that Elizabeth said? And I hope to God that's a rhetorical question."

"Elizabeth said she called Robert a prick. In the OR. In front of everyone." her voice was quiet as she delivered the final blow to her inquiry against Robert. Kerry Weaver knew she had lost, and that using Elizabeth Corday's name to drag Robert Romano down wasn't going to work.

"Robert. Please tell me-"

"You know Donald; I deserved to be called a prick in that instance. I even told her so."

"Fuck." Anspaugh was not pleased; Robert had never heard him swear before. "Robert, if you were having these issues with Elizabeth, then why didn't you say something. Write a report, document it?"

"Donald, it was humiliating to realize that the surgeon I had sponsored wanted nothing to do with me. Since I had no issues with Dr. Corday's surgical skills, I decided not to lodge a formal complaint. I had hoped her blind ambition would see reason, but unfortunately, it didn't. I was left in the position to determine if I wanted to continue to work with a surgeon who had no desire to work with me, and it's fairly obvious what I chose." he had nothing else to say. Elizabeth had fallen on her sword for him and dragged her name through the mud instead of his. Robert had no idea why. He could not begin to comprehend how she would deal with this fallout, something he had tried to protect her from in the first place. Kerry was the one who finally spoke.

"So, you're saying that Elizabeth called you a prick, and your response was to apologize?"

"Yes. I goaded her in an unprofessional manner and deserved her ire. I made that very clear after the surgery."

"Robert, I believe you are free to go. Kerry, you need to get your sources in order, and it sounds as if Elizabeth Corday won't testify unless it's on Robert's behalf. Robert, you'll get a written report of the overall testimony, but I believe this is the extent of the inquiry." Anspaugh dismissed him. It was over.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

AN: I own nothing.

Today is an exciting day. It's my first day back on a big job site since my industry shut down unexpectedly in March. It's a massive job and I honestly didn't expect we'd be here again. So to celebrate, I'm posting an extra chapter this weekend and when I get off work there will be Bunnahabhain 12.

Whisky consumed while writing: Laphroaig 10

Cigars smoked while writing: Rocky Patel and Zino Platinum

It felt like an excruciatingly long day for Elizabeth. She had been thankful that she wasn't on call for the ER, having to go down there after coffee at Doc Magoo's with Kerry Weaver would have been too much for one day. To make matters worse, Robert had been acting strange around her as well. He had asked if she would assist him on an appy, claiming he wanted the company and yet never saying a word to her unless it was medically relevant. It was odd behavior for Robert.

And now Elizabeth was trying to slip away at the end of her shift. She had almost made it through the day hiding out in the surgeons' lounge with 30 minutes left, and then Maggie Doyle came barging in. To say it was an unpleasant conversation was putting it mildly. Elizabeth having no desire to deal with Doyle, told the woman that she was 'rather poxy outside of the ER.' Doyle didn't know what poxy was but understood the tone none the less. It was not one of Elizabeth's better moments, but one she could leave behind with the end of her workday.

Elizabeth had almost made it to the elevator when she passed Anspaugh's office. For whatever reason, she glanced in and was caught off guard by a sense of nostalgia. Anspaugh was seated at his desk, buried behind a stack of paperwork, and looking somewhat irritated overall. It reminded her of visiting her father's office at the end of the day when he first took over Chief of Surgery, and she couldn't help but stop in.

"It's a Thursday night at the beginning of February, and you're stuck with stacks of paperwork. What's due tomorrow? Or is it past due at this point?"

Anspaugh looked up, slightly startled to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway.

"Everything. I've got all of my regular admin for surgery due tomorrow morning, and then everything with the ER is just get to it when I can.. Did you need something, Elizabeth?"

"Ah, no, sorry. I was passing by, and the sight reminded me of visiting my father's office as a teenager. Very often, if I wanted to spend time with him at the end of the month, I'd have to bring dinner to his office while he dealt with the last of the admin work."

"I often forget you're a surgeon's daughter. I'm struggling to make time for my own right now, and it's not been easy. It's been hard on her lately, and I was hoping to do something special for her birthday today. That's just not going to happen now that I've got the ER to deal with as well."

Elizabeth felt for him. She had spent countless nights waiting up for her father to come home, numerous summer afternoons hanging around the OR, and endless evenings having dinner in his office. Elizabeth, who adored her father to the point where she had followed in his footsteps and became a surgeon, felt her heart go out to Anspaugh's daughter.

"What's her name?"

"Evette, she's seven today. I was going to take her to dinner, but I won't make that now. How did your father manage it?"

"A nanny and then boarding school. He also didn't take on any admin positions until I got a little older." Elizabeth's father had gotten the promotion to Chief of Surgery when she was 13. Her mother had divorced him the following year and gave her father primary custody. The summer Elizabeth was 15, she spent several evenings a week helping her father with his paperwork. Charles Corday's goal was always to have the weekend free to spend with his daughter when she was home from school, and it brought them closer at a time where Elizabeth was starting to rebel against her parents.

"Tell me, Donald, how much work do you have left that's due tomorrow morning?"

"Oh, about 4 hours if nothing else comes up."

"Just enough to miss dinner. You know when I got old enough, I'd help my father with his paperwork so he could have weekends free to spend with me. I'm sure surgery admin in America can't be all that different than in the UK, so why don't you leave it with me this once. I can understand better than anyone how much it would mean for you to make it home this evening."

Donald Anspaugh leaned back in his chair, overwhelmed by the unexpected opportunity to spend time with his daughter. It had been almost a year since his son had died, and the appeal of spending more time at home was becoming harder to ignore.

"Thank you, Elizabeth. You've turned out to be quite a surprise. It's rare to come across the kind of work ethic and dedication you've displayed this year by starting over. Particularly after your rather, shall we say rocky fellowship last year. Yes, I've heard about that. The next time you decided to drop that kind of news on Dr. Weaver, I'd like a heads up so I can request that week off."

"I did make sure to tell her in a public place, least I have her ire directed on me. And I haven't been particularly proud of my behavior last year." This was not the conversation Elizabeth anticipated when she stepped into Anspaugh's office, but she couldn't be shocked at where it had turned. It was unsurprising that Weaver would be angry about her testimony and that she would have brought it to the Chief of Staff.

"I think I'll take you up on the paperwork offer; it's even a suitable penance for not giving me a heads up about your conversation with Kerry."

"I am sorry." Elizabeth was laughing though, as was Donald, the serious tone of the conversation having passed.

Anspaugh spent the next five minutes going over what needed to be completed before tomorrow morning, all straight forward enough that Elizabeth didn't foresee any issues. She confirmed that there wasn't an issue with completing the work at home before telling him to enjoy his evening with his daughter and then slipped out the door.

About 10 minutes later, Elizabeth had finally managed to exit the hospital. Standing in the car park, she was trying to juggle her keys and the paperwork when she heard her name being called.

"Lizzy!"

Robert had finally managed to track her down. He had been avoiding speaking with Elizabeth all day, unsure of her motivation and thus not knowing what to say. By the time Robert had decided to talk to her, she was nowhere to be found. Robert had all but given up on talking to her that day when he ran into a harried-looking Anspaugh. Never one to pass up a chance to get ahead at work, he asked how being the Interim Chief of the ER was going. Anspaugh was willing to call him 'almighty god' upon realizing Robert was offering to take over until they found a permanent replacement. If Robert couldn't find Elizabeth to speak to, then having the Chief of Staff feeling grateful towards him was an excellent ending to his day.

Robert was almost to his Jag when he saw her struggling with her car keys and swearing under her breath. It felt like now or never to say something to her.

"Lizzy! Here, let me help you."

Elizabeth turned to look at him. There was no disdain, just gratefulness. Robert knew that had more to do with her hands being full than seeing him, but beggars couldn't be choosers where Elizabeth was concerned.

"Thanks." He took the stack of paperwork from her, curious as to what kind of work she was taking home.

"Don't tell me you've gotten behind on chart review. Or has Peter still not hired a nanny and is using you to keep up at work?"

"No, but he really should. I get so tired of listening to him complain about his son being in daycare. I'm actually finishing up Anspaugh's surgical admin that's due tomorrow. It's his daughter's birthday today, and he wasn't going to make it home in time."

Well, that explained why Anspaugh was in such a hurry to hand off his work.

"So between you and me, Donald has a lovely laid back weekend to look forward to." Seeing her questioning look, he continued. "I offered up my services I take over as acting chief of the ER while they find a replacement. It never hurts to stay in the Chief of Staff's good graces. Something I learned the hard way with the last one." Robert's tone was light and teasing, testing the waters to find out her mood.

"I suppose not antagonizing the Chief is an excellent lesson to learn. Offering to help with admin is an improvement over your previous tactic of convincing the boss's daughter to move to another country." Elizabeth gave him a wicked smile, and they both laughed.

"Did I ever tell you that your father gave me a copy of Basic Surgical Techniques on my last day working for him?" He got an outright laugh at that; in fact, Elizabeth was laughing so hard that she was leaning against her car for support. "It's not funny, Lizzy. I know that's what med students who are starting their surgical clerkship read. I suppose he couldn't find a copy of Surgery for Dummies to give me instead."

"I'm sorry. My father doesn't think you're an idiot; he wouldn't have hired you if he did."

" Well, he certainly didn't think highly enough of me to approve of my sponsoring you."

Elizabeth had gotten quiet at Robert's statement, he knew he was treading on very delicate ground now, and one false step would be disastrous.

"You know, for a while, I've thought that you didn't have much respect, if any, for me." Robert had spoken softly enough that he wasn't even sure if it was out loud. "And frankly, I'm not sure what to think after today."

"Ah."

Elizabeth was fidgeting under Robert's gaze; a hand went up to rub the back of her neck as she tried to find somewhere other than him to look. Robert had no intention of giving her an easy out, though.

"You know what I'm really struggling to understand is _why_ you told Weaver that story." Robert was hoping she would take the bait and have a real conversation with him for once. He desperately wanted to know where they stood.

"Well, to start with, it's the truth."

"Elizabeth, I had _no idea_ you knew what that was. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful you learned in time for your little tête-à-tête with Weaver, but I thought you were blind to your behavior last year."

Elizabeth recoiled as if slapped. A grimace appeared across her face, and she pursed her lips. Robert thought she was spoiling for a fight.

"I guess I deserve that. I did, after all, spend a great deal of time with my head up my arse.". There was no anger in her voice, just an evident disappointment in herself. "Weaver and Doyle had set out on a Cromwellian witch hunt and wanted me to play along as Goody Corday. It was evident to me when Kerry first brought this up that she and Doyle believed I was the key to their investigation and did not like it when I told her I had nothing to add. Maggie Doyle was so incensed by this that she spoke to me directly, all but accusing me of having no self-respect because I wouldn't help her cause. She was going to use my name with or without testimony from me. If I testified for her great, but if I wouldn't say anything, then all the better. They could say I was too intimidated to speak up, having already lost my job once. And people would probably believe them. My name was going to get dragged into this either way, and I wanted it to be on my terms, not Weaver and Doyle's. I've been a liar once where you were concerned, and I wasn't going to be one again."

Robert had been holding his breath while Elizabeth spoke. While he knew she had stood up for him to Weaver, it was utterly different to hear it coming from her directly. What's more, Elizabeth hadn't looked away from him once. While she never had issues glaring at him in the past, it was unusual for her to hold eye contact during any conversation that came remotely close to meaningful.

"I see. And you didn't believe Doyle? Not even a little?" Robert hoped she would say no. Instead, she laughed.

"Robert, I can _easily_ believe that you poked Maggie Doyle with a stick just to see what she would do. That's not a stretch of the imagination by any means. However, in the time I've known you, I've never seen you do anything other than back down when asked. Doyle says she told you to and that you didn't, and that's what I don't believe. You love to see where people draw the line and if they have a backbone, and if you find a spine doesn't exist, then you encourage them to develop one."

Robert didn't know what to say to this woman that he believed ignored him daily when confronted with the idea that she had, in fact, been paying attention to him. Maybe not in the way he would like, but he had her attention none the less. Well, part of her attention and Robert was happy to start with that. He knew he couldn't give one of his standard flippant remarks. A response of 'well Elizabeth I'm thrilled that you've been paying so much attention to me' would not go over well right now.

"I didn't realize you knew there was a...method to my madness. And thank you, Elizabeth. You went so far out on a limb for me that I think you left the tree entirely." Robert was rewarded with a full smile, slowly taking over her face. A look that he always enjoyed but was rarely directed at him.

"I owed you an apology for treating you like a meal ticket out of London, you were far more than that and deserved my respect. I didn't believe you would put much stock in an apology from me, rightly so, and instead thought I'd work on my actions. I didn't plan on a grand gesture, but..." Elizabeth looked at him sheepishly. A grand gesture indeed. He took pity on her loss of words.

"The wicked witch of the ER flew in on her crutch and gave you the perfect opportunity."

"Robert! That's terrible. You shouldn't say that about Kerry."

"Lizzy. You're the one laughing here, not me."

It was true. Elizabeth was laughing at the apt description Robert had painted. Always quick with his words, she often found herself trying not to laugh at his verbal antics. It had been one of her favorite things about working with him in London; he wasn't afraid of giving the boss's daughter a sharp response and daring her to keep up. Often the remarks were witty, and she had found herself drawn into a natural back and forth with him. At some point, that ease had disappeared, and she didn't know when.

That was a lie, and she knew it. Elizabeth had felt a great deal of guilt over Alison Beaumont ending up in a coma and had no idea how to talk to Robert about it. To make things worse, instead of speaking of her concerns with Robert, she had turned to Peter. Elizabeth had furthered her personal relationship with Peter, who had been reluctant at best to get involved in the beginning; while ignoring the professional relationship with Robert, her sponsor, and mentor.

"Laughing, I may be Robert; you're still the one who said it."

A challenge had been issued.

"Yeah, well, you were thinking it. You know, I'm dying to know what Weaver's face looked like when you talked to her this morning."

"Like I shat in her coffee and told her it was champagne."

"And with that line, Lizzy, I think you win."

They were both leaning against her car and laughing as if a weight had been removed from their shoulders. They both were afraid to break the mood, but it was inevitable. Robert needed to go home to Gretel, and Elizabeth had work to do.

"Look, Lizzy, why can't we get along like this more often? I've never wanted to be at odds with you, and yet somehow, that's where we've ended up."

Elizabeth didn't want to be at odds with him either. At this point, it was too tiresome for something that did not benefit her. More importantly, she missed the easy camaraderie that was once between them, and she wanted that back.

"I don't want to be at odds, either Robert."

Robert gave her a smile that illuminated his whole face, reminding her of the smile he wore on Christmas eve. Elizabeth had never seen him that relaxed before, and it caught her off guard how attractive he looked.

"I know you've got this lovely stack of paperwork waiting on you, but why don't we grab drinks tomorrow night. Try and start over as friends." It was a stretch, and Robert knew it. Coffee or lunch would have been safer, and more likely to elicit a yes from her.

Elizabeth was reminded of the last time he offered to get drinks after work. It had been an olive branch then as well, and while she had been genuine in her reason for turning him down, she had agreed to 'any other time.'

"Under one condition."

"Which is?"

"You don't turn out to be a bloody lightweight. I swear if I have to put one more American in a cab because they're sloshed after two drinks, I'll move back to London."

Lizzy was teasing him, and Robert was ecstatic. He loved it when she gave him a smirk and challenged him by raising a delicate eyebrow. Robert took a step closer to her.

"Lizzy, I don't know what kind of people you hang out within your free time, but I'm insulted that you would put me in the category of lightweight with them. I think that has to be one of the more offensive things you've said to me, and I'm going to have to insist you get the first round of drinks to make up for it."

"Fine, the first round is on me then."

Elizabeth walked towards him, smiling and stopped just in front of him. She was so close Robert could smell her perfume and had to resist the urge to reach out and stroke her hair. It didn't matter because Elizabeth was reaching out to him.

"Robert, I need my paperwork back now. I really do have a deadline." Elizabeth was staring at him, expectantly.

He blinked. Of course. The paperwork. Robert had been momentarily distracted by how close Elizabeth stood and was consequently struggling with the relatively simple task of forming a response.

"Right, sorry. It's been a long day, and I uh, guess I'm a little more tired than I thought." Robert passed off the stack of paperwork, the conversation having run its course.

"Yes, well dealing with an irate Weaver is rather taxing."

Robert opened the car door for her, trying to prolong the close proximity he was sharing with her, not ready for it to end. Once Elizabeth was settled in the car, she looked back up at him, and Robert couldn't help but smile again. He couldn't remember ever smiling this much at work before.

"Have a good night Lizzy."

"Goodnight, Robert."

With a parting smile from her, Robert shut the car door and watched as she drove off. He waited until her car turned the corner before breaking out into a huge grin and proclaiming a loud "Yes" accompanied by a fist pump. Robert 'Rocket' Romano was going to have drinks with Elizabeth Corday.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Coffee units consumed 2 1/2

Cigars: 1 Arturo fuente

Alcohol: None yet, I've got a site survey. Perrier all day.

And now back to our regularly scheduled chapter.

It was another cold February morning in Chicago, and the forecast for the day was bleak. Freezing rain turning into heavy snow with 6"-10" predicted by evening. A blizzard was on the horizon, conditions that would stop most in their tracks, but not Rocket Romano. Dressed in one of his favorite suits, he felt as if he could take on the blizzard. He sure as hell wasn't going to let a little bit of snow stop him from enjoying what was sure to be the highlight of his day, having drinks with Lizzy. Robert would have to make it through his first day of work as Acting Chief of the ER first, though. Something to lord over Weaver.

Robert thought it was a sign of how good the day would be when he saw the surgery schedule for the morning. Romano/Corday in bold letters on the board. Sure, he was ignoring the name Benton that was up there with them; he just hoped Lizzie would as well.

Stepping into the scrub room, Lizzie was already in conversation with Benton, absolutely appalled at the amount of student loan debt Benton had. Robert joined the tête-à-tête, asking how the public health system was supposed to pay for freeloaders If the residence didn't live in poverty. _Wrong_ choice of words. He could practically taste his foot as Elizabeth described the people who couldn't pay for healthcare, she had a point though, and Robert needed to remove the foot from his mouth quickly, Gretel had chewed on it this morning after all.

"Well, Lizzy, you'll have to forgive me for not choosing my words more wisely, my Weaver exposure started early this morning, and it might have lowered my IQ by a few points. Residents get abused here so that we can help those in need."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow and looked at him in disbelief. She had not expected him to back down on the _freeloaders_ remark. Peter even looked shocked at the exchange.

"Well, _I_ didn't have to live in debt-stricken poverty to complete my medical training back home." Elizabeth was willing to have some fun with the conversation and see just how far his magnanimous mood would go.

"You also had the NHS paying for everything. I think your education system is cheaper, as well."

Elizabeth couldn't argue Robert's point, and she wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. There was no way in hell she would admit that her university education was practically free with _Madam Corday_ being a Senior Lecturer there.

"I can't help it that the colonies have been making poor financial decisions ever since they threw the tea in the harbor." Elizabeth was quickly exiting the scrub room, back first against the door. She hoped her face hadn't betrayed her enjoyment of the conversation with Robert, explaining that to Peter was not something she cared to do.

The scrub room conversation with Elizabeth was the only good part of Roberts's day. Chaos was wreaking havoc on the ER in the form of Doug Ross. Usually, Robert didn't have an issue with the pediatric attending being a maverick; anyone with that kind of dedication to helping sick children was alright by him, but this time a child was dead, and the cops were swarming. Euthanasia. Robert believed in death with dignity, and the idea of a child needlessly suffering made him sick, but Ross dropped the ball on this. Leaving the mother to do it alone, no wonder she ratted Ross out when her husband showed up.

Elizabeth's evening had gone to hell right along with Romano's. Rumors of Doug Ross's antics had made its way up to surgery, along with the news that Carol's clinic was involved. There wasn't time to check in with her friend, though, a mass trauma had taken over the ER, children a flipped school bus. A long night was ahead of her, but hopefully not too long.

* * *

Somewhere around eleven, things had finally calmed down. Elizabeth was desperate to leave, and she wasn't sure if it was to go home and sleep or find somewhere close by and have drinks with Robert. A small part of her was insistent that she not cancel drinks all over a little bit of snow because she was looking forward to spending time with Him. The louder and more vocals part of her was insisting that she wanted to go for drinks purely to establish a pax with the man. Being at odds wasn't beneficial to either of them, and she was happy to develop better relationships with her colleagues.

She found him in the Surgeons' Lounge, nursing a cup of coffee whilst making notes on a chart. Robert looked tired, and Elizabeth wondered if he would still be up for drinks.

"What a day." Elizabeth sat down next to him, and he set aside the chart.

"Nothing like an evening snowstorm to make a mess of things. I'm guessing you got your patient transferred to Mercy since you aren't stuck in the OR."

"Yes, I know you wanted it as a teaching case-"

"You made the right call Lizzy. We were slammed and wouldn't have gotten around to it in time to save the hand."

"Yes. Looks like you're still busy, though. Just charts, or are you already buried deep in ER admin?" Elizabeth was hoping it was just charts, now that she was off her feet the idea of grabbing drinks and talking to someone after a long day seemed ideal.

"The last of my notes. I delegated the worst of the admin to Weaver and Greene _, much_ to their displeasure." Robert was obviously pleased with himself for that, giving her a cheeky smile.

"Does that mean you're still up for a drink or has the snow pushed this off too late?"

An unreadable expression was on his face, and Elizabeth was concerned she had come across as too eager. She tried to keep a neutral tone and look, but was beginning to think she had failed. Robert looked at his watch and then let out a sigh.

"Well, it is later than I had hoped for, but I suppose I've still got time for one drink before Gretel starts to get worried. "

Gretel? Elizabeth was definitely confused. While Robert was naturally a private man, she thought she would have heard something about a live-in girlfriend. This revelation had thrown her off balance, and she scrambled to recover.

"It takes a very understanding person to live with a surgeon. I remember one week where my father worked so late every night that my mother had the locks on the house changed. She left him outside, shouting and ringing the bell for a good ten minutes before feigning shock at finding him at the door. Told him, 'Why Charles, I thought you had moved out.' Consequently, he was home on time for the rest of the summer. "

That got a laugh out of Robert, who was vastly enjoying picturing an irate Charles Corday being put in his place with such a passive-aggressive move.

"Thankfully, Gretel hasn't thought of changing the locks on me. The worst she's done is greet me with a very wet kiss, right after she washed her trash can dinner down with toilet water. "

"You've got a dog." She felt foolish and gave him a look. Robert seemed far too satisfied with himself for her liking.

"Yes, Lizzy, I've got a dog. Don't tell me you were jealous."

"That you've got a dog? Absolutely. Although I can live without the toilet water kisses. That should stay between man and man's best friend."

Point Corday. They were back on even footing. Robert stood up, taking his charts with him.

"Look, if you're going to be mean to me, then you can buy Gretel a doggy bag while we're out. It's that, or I have her send you some toilet water. I'm going to go change into street clothes; I'll meet you out front in about fifteen minutes."

Elizabeth watched him walk out of the lounge. It took her a full minute to realize that she, too, was still in scrubs and needed to change.

* * *

About thirty minutes and a short walk later, Robert was sitting next to Elizabeth at the bar, watching her pursue the menu for something to nibble on. He wished she would nibble on him, but one step at a time. Robert was thrilled she had still wanted to brave the elements with him after the shift they had had, the fact that she sought him out about stilling having drinks was just icing on the cake, and Robert had an insatiable sweet tooth. He had briefly thought she was jealous when he intentionally implied he had someone to go home to, but she could have simply been surprised. Elizabeth knew very little about him outside of work, and Robert was keen to change that.

The bartender put their drinks in front of them, red wine for Robert and mead for Elizabeth. Robert raised his glass to hers with a 'cheers' while she said 'Slainte' and glared daggers at him.

"Robert, you have to make eye contact, or it's seven years of bad sex." She scoffed.

He choked on his drink and looked at her quickly. Robert had been to many bars in many places but _never_ had he heard that before. Seven years of bad sex, no thank you.

"Lizzy, what kind of horrible drinking culture are you from?" Elizabeth was laughing at him. "No, stop laughing and make eye contact. Then explain. Seven years of bad sex, my ass." Robert glared at her until she stopped laughing and made eye contact. He took another sip of his drink just to be safe.

"It's something I picked up at Uni. I'm uh, not sure what culture it's actually from."

"Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy," he said while shaking his head at her, "I'm _really_ getting the feeling I shouldn't trust you as far as I could throw you when drinking is involved. First, you drink a bunch of scotch and are mean to me, and now you drink mead and threaten me with seven years of bad sex. And bad sex for whom?"

Her response of wouldn't you like to know was accompanied by a musical laugh and a delicately raised eyebrow. Wouldn't he like to know indeed. It was the start of a relaxed evening between two people intent on becoming friends. Their conversations ranged from drinking stories from their allegedly misspent youths (brewing mead under her dorm room bed in boarding school and his older sister getting him a keg to celebrate his first year of college), to comparisons between growing up in the States vs. the UK, to what books they were currently reading (Silence of the Lambs and Trunk Music).

Robert shared about his first day as Acting ER Chief, including his threat to form a "Bullet-Headed Committee." The petty side of Elizabeth loved it, and she proposed that henceforth all after-work drinking sessions be known as a meeting of the Bullet-Headed Committee. Robert was thrilled enough by the fact that she wanted to spend more time with him to allow the name to slide, and besides, he couldn't wait to see the look on Weaver's face when he inevitably brought up attending a meeting of the Bullet-Headed Committee.

Shortly before one, the bartender announced last call, and Elizabeth ordered their nightcaps.

"So, it's the last call, and you told me I'd have to order Gretel a doggy bag. What exactly does she like, single malt, bacon, cheeseburgers, bacon cheeseburgers?" Elizabeth was leaning towards him ever so slightly, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. Robert mimicked her stance and leaned in as well; he had an idea.

"Well, as much as Gretel would love a bacon cheeseburger, I've learned the hard way not to give her one." More laughter from Lizzy "She will, however, accept a huge bone as penance for your mean words." He was hoping she would take the bait.

"Ah, a true connoisseur. I'm afraid I don't have bones for her, though."

"I suggest you fix that then. And to make up for your abysmal manners, I'll let you take Gretel to her favorite dog park next weekend. You'll have to put in a good effort, of course, and bring all her favorite snacks, but she might forgive you."

Elizabeth was smiling at him, something that was quickly becoming Robert's favorite thing, and then - "I'd like that, Robert." And she raised her glass.

"To new friendships."

"To new friendships." He said, matching her smile.

* * *

The following week was strange for Robert, he had done something his sister had only teased him about, and that was to use his dog to pick up a woman. Technically, Saturday was not a date, but Robert was still excited to spend time with Elizabeth none the less. The bonus to it all was that she seemed to genuinely be a dog person if her eager questions were anything to go by. What kind of dog was Gretel, how old was she, when did you get her, does she prefer to chew on your slippers or her toys? Robert had been pestering her with questions equally, and the only response he had managed to get was that she did have a dog growing up. Elizabeth would blush and shake her head when he tried to find out more and firmly told him she refused to answer those questions at work, least he start teasing her. A blushing Lizzy was always a sight to behold. The piece de resistance for Robert, though, was the fact that Elizabeth had agreed to his suggestion of picking her up instead of meeting him at the park.

Saturday came, and Robert found himself driving through the streets of Chicago with Gretel in the back seat. He had the leather seats covered for her, but the larger she got, the more he questioned if the back seat of a Jag was the best place for a dog of her size. Gretel might need something more utilitarian if she kept growing, but for now, she fit and thankfully wasn't chewing on the leather. She was, however, being a backseat driver, always nosing Robert's ear determined to let him know this was not the way to the dog park. They had arrived outside of Elizabeth's apartment building, and Gretel was impatient as was Robert. He had been waiting five minutes already, and that was with him running late and still no sign of Lizzy. Robert had almost given up on waiting when he saw a flash of red hair exit the building.

"Sorry I'm late," Elizabeth said while getting into the car. "my godmother called, and I had a hard time ending the call without getting twenty questions from her about my plans."

It was at this point that Gretel made herself known by licking Elizabeth's ear.

"Oh, hello, aren't you a beautiful girl." She cooed while scrubbing Gretel's ears, an act that earned her another kiss.

Robert smiled as he maneuvered the car away from the curb and guided them towards the park. It was a short drive punctuated only with Gretel's excited whines as she slowly recognized where they were going. It was everything Robert could do to keep her contained long enough to leash her when they finally arrived. The morning was still young and cold enough that the snow-covered park had yet to be disturbed by other winter-loving k-9's and formed a picture that took Robert's breath away. Elizabeth was bundled up against the cold and engaging in a game of tug-o-war with Gretel. Her musical laughter drifted across the park, and Robert couldn't help but look on in adoration.

They had been at the park close to an hour when another couple showed up with a dog in tow, a large Newfoundland that was thrilled to find a playmate in Gretel. Elizabeth snuck off to the car while Robert pestered the new people with questions about their dog. She had slowly been getting cold and decided it was time to retrieve the thermos of hot chocolate she had put in her bag that morning. By the time she had made it back into the dog run, Robert had been searching for her with a worried look.

"There you are, I was concerned that you got too cold and left."

"I was getting cold and decided it was time for hot chocolate. Always good for spending the morning out in the snow." Elizabeth shivered as she unscrewed the thermos and poured some of the steaming cocoa for them to share. Seeing her visibly shivering, Robert stepped closer to rub her arms with the intent of warming her up when Elizabeth leaned into him, wrapping one arm around his waist in an attempt to stay warm. She stood there, sipping the hot chocolate and watching Gretel play, oblivious to the fact that Robert was frozen in place from her touch.

"Would you like some?" Elizabeth had startled him with the question; his brain still trying to catch up with what was going on.

"Hm?" She tilted her head in response as if to ask if he had suddenly become thick. "Oh, hot chocolate. Yeah. It is getting cold out." He took the cup from her with one hand and pulled her in closer with the other. Elizabeth snuggled in closer, still shivering from the cold and appreciating the warmth that Robert was giving off. She lost track of time, passing the hot chocolate back and forth between them until she felt snow starting to come down around them, a companionable silence only broken by the playful barking of dogs.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

AN: A day early as tomorrow is a travel day; work trip is over and I get to return home after being away for over a month.

Coffee Units consumed: 1 can

Cigars Smoked: My Father Le Bijou 1922

Cigar Lounges visited while on the trip: Barclay Rex's and the Carnegie Club's outdoor lounges

Some quotes are taken from Season 5 Episode 19

* * *

Several weeks had passed, and the cold of February had started to thaw into March as did the once frosty feeling Elizabeth held for Robert. She had been spending more of her free time with him since the day in the park, grabbing drinks after work, walks around the lake with Gretel, and just coffee in the lounge when their time was scarce. Elizabeth has been surprised at how quickly they had fallen into an easy friendship and how much she was coming to savor the time she spent with Robert. By some miracle, they had managed to hide their newfound friendship from the workplace gossips.

Elizabeth's testimony in Robert's favor had also been kept quiet, and she suspected that had more to do with Kerry Weaver not wanting to make a fool of herself with the unsubstantiated sexual harassment complaint she had led against Robert. It turned out that another staff member had overheard Robert giving Doyle a hard time, and it consisted of snide comments about ER residents not being fit to play surgeon. Doyle's fuck off, much to Robert's glee was also witnessed along with his response 'noted, that's all you had to say.' Needless to say, Robert had refused to change the performance evaluation. Elizabeth had snidely made a comment to him in the ER that day about the Bullet-Headed Committee in front of Weaver, and they took great enjoyment laughing about her discomfort over drinks that night.

Today, however, it wasn't her budding friendship with Rocket Romano that concerned her; it was Carol. One of Elizabeth's few female friends in the states, she had been repeated feeling ill since Doug Ross had left Chicago. Elizabeth didn't know if Carol was just depressed or if there was something else making her friend ill, but she was beginning to become concerned. Mark Greene has looped her into the constant headaches Carol was having, and they had teamed up in their mutual concern. They had become tentative friends between their concern for Carol and their patient, Mobalage.

It turns out Carol was pregnant. The next few weeks would be rough as Elizabeth tried to be a supportive friend, and she had enough on her plate as it was. Sooner rather than later, Elizabeth would be done with her internship and would have her medical license; she needed a plan of what came next.

That's where her brilliant idea formed. Elizabeth had come to the states to pursue trauma surgery, and Carol's pursuits of an ER clinic had inspired her to try her luck at advocating for a Trauma Surgical Fellowship run through the ER. Her growing friendship with Mark had made it easy to suggest the need for such a fellowship and conveniently bypass Kerry Weaver, who still couldn't look her in the eye. Mark didn't understand the uncomfortableness Kerry seemed to have developed with her but found it amusing. Another ally in the ER was important for her considering she had burned the bridge with Weaver and Doyle in a blaze of glory.

For all of her newfound friendships, Elizabeth was still trying to maintain the one she had with Peter, and today she glimpsed the real level of disdain Peter and Robert had for each other. She had been shocked to see Peter at work that morning, and it was apparently due to Robert. Robert had offered to back Peter in a bid for a Cardiothoracic fellowship and was determined to show off his surgical skills to Dr. Weinstein, the surgeon running it. That meant dragging Peter into work early and being pissy when Peter was tied up on the phone. Elizabeth felt for Peter's predicament with his son but secretly agreed with Robert's suggestion of a nanny, if just not the way he delivered it.

"Get out now, Elizabeth." Peter was still on hold, trying to once again speak to the manufacturer of his son's hearing aids.

"What?"

"In a few months, you'll have your license and your pick of fifth-year residences."

"Well it's alright, I think I've found a way to ah get what I want." She was purposefully vague, knowing that Peter was actually suggesting she get as far away from Robert as she could.

"Oh yeah, and what is that? Are you going to throw garlic at him?"

Oh yes, Peter was _definitely_ talking about getting away from Robert.

"No, trauma surgery, a fellowship run out of the ER; it would start in July."

"I didn't know there was a trauma fellowship."

"Well, there wasn't." Elizabeth had a smug look on her face. "Look, trauma's the reason I came to the states in the first place, and the hours are better, and I'd have some semblance of a normal life." She was quite pleased with herself for coming up with the fellowship and left Peter to deal with the hearing aid company.

The afternoon had wiped the smug smirk off of Elizabeth's face. A short talk with Carol left her feeling bad for having little time to spend supporting her friend, whose life was spinning out of control. Ultimately there wasn't much Elizabeth could do until Carol first chose what course to set, and she had to make that decision for herself. Then she was cornered by Mark Greene.

Mark Greene was trying to help their patient seek asylum, and her heart went out to the man after what he had been through. Elizabeth's heart, however, was not going out to Mark Greene. He wanted her to falsify a chart when he had already sent the patient's lawyer to inform the judge that Mobalage was being readmitted to the hospital and thus couldn't be deported. Mark had no way of knowing just how much trouble her last lie had cost her. As much as she wanted to help, she couldn't. Elizabeth was sure that while Anspaugh was taking no disciplinary actions against her for her actions in her testimony, she felt confident that he was watching her every move carefully. Thankfully it turned out that Elizabeth's help wasn't needed. Mobalage's lawyer had spoken to the judge before Mark had even approached her and called BS, stating that they were stalling. The judge gave them an extra day to get a statement for asylum, and after that, a decision would be made—no need for her to lie in the first place.

Her day, however, got worse. Peter. Bloody. Benton. A chance run-in with him after his surgery with Weinstein and she confronted him about going to Weaver about the Trauma Fellowship. _Arse_. She'd spent the past year clawing her way out of a hole she dug only for him to start shoveling dirt on top of her. Some friend. She was off at a decent time for once, and with Robert off to his regularly scheduled boys' night, she though a call home would be appropriate. At that point, Elizabeth didn't care which surgeon in her family she got a hold of, just as long as one answered.

She was in luck. Andrew answered on the third ring and gave an excited shout of "Its Elizabeth!" when he heard her voice. Apparently, the male surgeons everywhere were having a boys' night, as her father and godfather were at Andrew's having a nightcap. Not quite three sheets to the wind due to it being a Thursday, they managed to put her on speaker and let her have a rant about her day and the stupid American men that had riled her up.

Malcolm Cameron was by far the winner of the _Bad Influence of the Year AwardTM_ and, as such, howled with laughter when she recounted her conversation with Benton. 'Cardiothoracic isn't really working out' she had mimicked and proceeded to tell her surgical elitist family how she brazenly threw out that maybe it was because Benton didn't know a mitral valve repair from an aortic valve repair. Elizabeth could make out her godfather shouting "yes, lass!" Over her father's laughter. Elizabeth was surprised to learn that Peter Benton hadn't made such a good impression on her father when Charles Corday commented that "she desperately needed to find a higher caliber of surgeons to work with and preferably not sanctimonious prima donnas that couldn't recognize a good thing when it happened to them." More laughter came from the Corday/Cameron Surgical family at that.

The conversation didn't last much longer due to the late hour in London. Elizabeth asked after her godmother Helena, who had recently spent a week living in her studio when Malcolm was assigned the graveyard shift for telling a fellow surgeon to kiss his arse in Galiec. It wasn't the first time and said surgeon finally found someone willing to translate the rude phrase. Helena Cameron was not pleased and spent roughly three hours on the phone with Elizabeth one-night ranting about the stupidity of men. Asking about her godmother inevitably lead to the question of if Elizabeth's mother speaking to her again, and the answer was no as Isabelle Corday hadn't forgiven her daughter for one becoming a surgeon and two moving to another country. Eventually, her menfolk started to yawn, and Elizabeth got off the phone, leaving them in the care of Hypnos and the promise that she would write soon.

* * *

The following weeks found Elizabeth trying to juggle work, exploring new take out options with a ravenous Carol, weekly drinks with Robert, and surprisingly Chief of Surgery paperwork. Anspaugh had been thrilled with her work when she lent a hand back in February, and with Robert managing the ER, making it home to dinner with his daughter every night was slowly becoming a possibility with just a little additional help. It started with Anspaugh bringing up his daughter's dance recital. He cornered her with 'Elizabeth do you think I could trouble you, there's not much to finish today' and had slowly it turned it into every Friday at four Anspaugh would catch her attention to pass off a small stack of paperwork as he left to spend time with his daughter.

Robert had laughed the first time Anspaugh shoves a stack of paperwork in her and high tailed it to the elevator. He called it the _Anspaugh AmbushTM_ and bought her a drink, letting her grumble about 'the nerve of rude American men doing as they please.' Robert's response of ' _ok Charles_ ' broke her cross mood making her laugh, and he promised to buy her a drink for every time she got ambushed. The second time it happened, Elizabeth found Robert waiting for her by the elevators at the end of the day with his own stack of paperwork for the ER, and a ritual was formed. Friday nights in March became reserved for going to Elizabeth's flat, ordering take out and muddling through their respective admin. Elizabeth was learning more about Robert every time and each week look forward to their Friday ritual more than the last.

The end of March had arrived, bringing all the glories of spring with it and a chance for Elizabeth to shine professionally. She was presenting on a panel for the Chicago Society of Trauma physicians, and the timing couldn't be better with Anspaugh formally announcing that the hospital was going forward with the trauma fellowship.

Elizabeth's morning had been packed between surgery and a trauma; consequently, the congenial mood she had strived to maintain towards Benton soured in trauma one. He had gotten cross with her for taking a trauma as it came in instead of paging him from god only knows where. Elizabeth left to head back to the surgical floor rather than get persnickety over who was running the trauma. She caught the elevator last minute and stepped in.

"Going my way?"

"If you're going to the OR, I am." Elizabeth crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall of the elevator. Robert noticed her mood and took a step towards her.

"Why so glum on this bright spring day?"

"I've got a lot on my mind." As much as Elizabeth appreciated Robert's company, she was cross and had no desire to be confronted by Robert. It seemed that he could read her far too well these days and more than likely had heard about the trauma fellowship by now, something she had avoided talking with him about the past few weeks.

"Would that be the trauma fellowship I hear you've applied for?" His question was spot on and delivered with just the tiniest bit of hurt that she thought was due to her not saying anything to him about it.

"Yup, it might be."

"I'll have to invite myself to sit on the selection committee, Anspaugh says you've got a fighting chance."

The petty part of Elizabeth that was cross with Peter took advantage of her desire not to have this conversation with Robert and changed the topic.

"Hmm, I did have before Peter decided to apply." It was underhanded, and Elizabeth knew it, but all she wanted to do was find Carol's newly acquired stash of snack and eat them while complaining about men.

"Peter's applied for the trauma fellowship?" Elizabeth could hear the shock in Robert's voice though he hid it well.

"Yeah, haven't you heard?"

"Ah no," Robert let out a forced laugh, "no, I must be out of the loop."

"Well, I'm sure he was planning on telling you." The elevator opened with a ding, and they stepped out, headed in opposite directions. The gauntlet had been thrown down. Take that Benton.

After a long and pissy day dealing with the end run that Peter Benton had delivered by applying for the Trauma Fellowship, Robert just wanted to be done for the day. It was, however, still early enough that he thought he could catch part of the Trauma Conference Elizabeth was speaking at. He might not be thrilled that she hadn't mentioned her plans with the fellowship, but he still wanted to be supportive.

Robert managed to make it to the hotel hosting the conference, shortly after it started. Slipping in the back, he looked up at the panel, trying to find Lizzy, and she wasn't there. He knew she had left work well before him, and there was no trauma in the ER to page her away before he left. Robert stayed and kept glancing at his watch as it got later and later and still no Elizabeth, hoping that nothing had happened to her on the way to the conference. By the end of the conference, he had discreetly paged her on his cell several times and gotten nothing back.

Just great. First, Benton pisses him off with his backstabbing maneuver, and then he goes to a Trauma Conference to support Lizzy, but there's no Lizzy to support. Thankfully there was a bar in the hotel. Robert could grab a drink and call Max and see if he was free for drinks, something good had to come out of a wasted Saturday.

Robert had left a message on Max's machine and was sipping his scotch, waiting for a call back when he saw a flash of red hair across the room. Lizzy had finally shown up and with Greene of all people.

"Lizzy!" He waved her over and was greeted with a relieved smile.

"Robert!" And she went right into his arms for a hug. "I _hate_ today," She said, leaning back from him just enough to see his face.

"You hate today?" Robert adopted a teasing tone, all grumpiness forgotten with her lingering in his arms. "Elizabeth, I just sat through the most god-awful trauma conference to be supportive of you, and you didn't show. I had to get a scotch to deal with the trauma of what I just sat through."

"Ha. Ha. Ha. You think you're so clever." Lizzy stepped out of his embrace and grabbed his scotch, knocking it back in one go and pulling a face.

"Christ Robert, what are you drinking? Ugh."

Robert laughed at her. The queen of scotch was vulnerable, after all. "It's called scotch, Lizzy, your favorite drink."

She shot him a dirty look.

" _Robert_. That tasted like Macallan."

"Look at you; you know your scotch." Robert was impressive that she could tell that by taste, considering how quickly she had downed it.

"I um, I don't think we can be friends. I thought you were an intelligent man of discerning taste, and I turn my back for one moment, and you show off your philistine roots by drinking Macallan. And here I was so hopeful for you."

He shook his head ever so slightly at her, enjoying the teasing tone in her voice and the smile that was trying to break through the smirk.

"Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy, I never you were such a snob." They broke into laughter, neither able to keep up a straight face.

Robert turned to the bartender and order two Lagavulins neat, whatever had held Elizabeth and Greene up was a reason to drink by the look on her face. Greene. In Robert's delight at finding Lizzy he had forgotten that Mark Green was with her and standing behind her, mouth slightly opened as he tried to process what was going on.

Elizabeth has seemingly forgotten about Greene as well because she took a seat at the bar and turned towards Robert in anticipation of telling him just what the hell had happened that afternoon.

"Uhhh," Greene spoke, or tried to. Robert didn't care so long as he continued to sound unintelligent around Lizzy.

"Mark close your mouth; we are not a codfish."

Snickering ensued at that, and Robert did nothing to hide it earning him a weak glare from Greene and an eye roll from Lizzy. Green, unfortunately, regained enough brain function to sit down at the open seat to Lizzy's left just as the two scotches arrived. The bartender turned expectantly to Greene.

"I'll have what they're having."

"Dr. Greene, I didn't know you were a scotch drinker." Robert was enjoying watching Greene try to keep up with what was going on. The only response the man could make was to shrug his shoulders. Whatever. So long as Greene continued to do the right thing by looking like an idiot, Robert would happily tolerate his presence. Robert didn't wait for Greene's drink to arrive and instead started with cheers with Lizzy.

"So, where the hell were you? I know you left before I did."

"I couldn't get a bloody cab" Elizabeth launched into her story, turning toward Robert as she talked, their knees just barely touching. "Some foul git got in the cab just as I was about to, and in my frustration, I dropped all of my slides for the conference. Right about that time Mark appeared and helped me collect them all and suggested we take the EL."

Robert groaned. He knew where this was going, and it was one of the many reasons he hated public transportation. So very unreliable on the weekend.

"Elizabeth, you have a car, why didn't you take that to start?"

"I didn't want to deal with it in case I was running late." He read between the lines on that easily.

"You mean it's giving you trouble again, and you're just refusing to acknowledge it." She was quiet and ignoring him at that. "Lizzy, do you need a ride next week?"

"Maybe." A soft smile, and then she continued. As he guessed, the train was an express on weekends, and Greene's suggestion to take it made them drastically late. Flustered at being so tardy, Elizabeth rushed and took the stairs revealing that to her horror, the door opened to a basement room where they got locked in. They had been rescued shortly after the conference ended and decided that there was a desperate need for alcohol.

"And then I found you here. I must say I was pleasantly shocked to see you; I think it's the highlight of my day." Greene looked offended at that comment but said nothing; he was too busy making a face as he sipped on the Islay single malt. Not a man used to drinking the good stuff. Robert finished off his own scotch, pleased that seeing him was the highlight of Elizabeth's day and decided to push his luck and held out his hand.

"What?" The confusion on her face was adorable.

"They're playing the tango." Elizabeth looked from Robert's face to his hand and then back up again.

"I don't know the tango."

"Then let me lead Lizzy."

A moment of hesitation and then she put her hand in his. It fit perfectly. Robert pulled her to her feet and led them in the direction of the music, leaving a stunned Mark Green behind.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

AN: Quotes from Season 5 Episode 20

Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing!

I think this is the chapter you've all been waiting for.

Chocolate consumed: All.

He had been cross with Elizabeth for a week now. As enjoyable as the afternoon at the hotel bar had been with her, Robert was struggling to get passed the fact that she hadn't told him about the trauma fellowship proposal. He knew why of course, he thought it was a waste of time and her skills to sit idle in the ER when she could be kept busy by actually operating in surgery. Preferably with him. Lizzy has told him she didn't want to bring up the fellowship until she knew if it was happening or not, mentioning it to Peter had already bitten her on the ass. Logically Robert knew it made sense, but it still hurt that everything seemed to be going so well between them, and yet she didn't feel like she could talk to him about it. Time to take it out on the ER.

Weaver has miraculously taken the day off; she still couldn't look him in the eye, and Robert was just fine with that. It gave him more time to observe Greene and try to figure out the man's motives where _his_ Elizabeth was concerned. Robert figured being blunt and catching Greene off guard would be the easiest way to do it and to make sure he knew that Lizzy was off-limits. In not so many words, of course.

Robert was, however, regretting that observing Greene meant having to interact with the masses of the ER.

"And that is why I prefer my patients anesthetized." He needed to wash his hand. The OCD part of his surgeon's brain was kicking in. Must scrub away the filth. Greene was talking about the next patient, but Robert wasn't listening. Instead, he ducked into the nearest men's room and started to wash his hands.

"Ever dream about Lizzy Corday?" Robert took the opportunity to blind-side Greene.

"What?"

Robert continued to wash his hands, acting as if this were the most natural conversation.

"It'd be understandable, the one motive I could follow for the ER trying to ah poach her away from surgery." Greene was shifting around behind him, his body language screaming uncomfortable.

"The trauma fellowship is not about poaching Robert."

"Yeah, how longs it been, Mark" Robert paused just long enough to look up at Greene in the mirror, the double entendre hanging in the air "since you had a trauma come in?"

That threw Greene, and Robert knew he was on to something.

"Ah, what today?

"Yeah"

"Five, six hours. -" Good. Robert could use that to go in for the kill and cut Greene off.

"Ok, so. If you actually had a trauma fellowship for the last five or six hours, that highly skilled surgical resident would have been sitting on her pretty little hands or maybe babysitting gorks waiting for ICU beds." Robert was leaving the restroom, making Greene follow him around. He enjoyed a good power play. Damn the nurse who interrupted it by telling them that a scalping was coming in.

The bright side to roaming the halls of the ER was that Lizzy was often there, trying to catch as many traumas as possible to appeal to the powers that be for the fellowship.

"Lizzy, Peter's already been paged on this, but you'll probably wanna see it, it takes more than a 10 cm scalp avulsion to get my heart pumping, but then again, I'm not a trauma wonk."

Elizabeth dipped into the trauma room to evaluate the patient. Mark was running things, and it looked worse than it actually was. He clamped the bleeder while she prepared to suture. Somehow the patient thought they were flirting; it did sound rather dirty, though. Elevating tips and slipping in. And then the power went. Indeed a sign that the day would not be a good one. Then again, it was the ER, and those signs were bountiful.

"Who the hell left the patient in the hall?!" Haleh was pissed, and Elizabeth walked over to see what was going on.

"I saw an x-ray tech, did he just leave her?"

Elizabeth helped Haleh with the patient trying to figure out who she was. There was no chart, and they uncovered her; she was naked and unconscious, having been clearly battered and bruised. She wasn't breathing, and Elizabeth's training kicked in, directing the gurney towards a trauma room yelling for a hand. Robert jumped in, and she filled him in as they went down the hall. They intubated her and determined she had been sexually assaulted as well. They got her stable, and then Robert went to deal with the issue of the x-ray tech.

Elizabeth hadn't seen much and was lamenting to Mark about it as they got the patient back into a gown. The patient had been missing from medicine all morning and was a car crash victim that had been in a coma for the past ten days. Mark was trying to be a friend in the inept male sort of way, suggesting that he was sure the little information that Elizabeth had provided helped the police. She wished she could have done more and was almost relieved that the patient needed minor surgery; at least it was something Elizabeth could fix.

The scrub room was beginning to feel crowded. Peter and his over-inflated ego had joined her to scrub, intent on pushing her out of the surgery.

"I heard I missed another trauma."

"Tragic case, actually."

"Is Romano doing the ex-lap?"

"It's perfectly routine; you needn't join us if you're busy."

"Yeah, well, he'll need an assist."

"We both know I can handle that. "

"Elizabeth, you're an intern; stop seeing every move I make as a competition, ok."

"Right. It's just the way I see it, it seems you're going for the trauma fellowship full boor."

"I haven't made up my mind."

The door opened, and Robert walked in. The petty part inside Elizabeth that had been flair up around Peter these days hoped that Robert had heard the tail end of their conversation.

"My, my, my. How many surgical heavy weights does it take to screw in a light bulb."

"Depends on what's at stake, I guess," she said under her breath.

Tensions were high as they started the surgery. Elizabeth was sure that Robert was picking up on the death glares she had been throwing at Peter when the power went out. There were backup generators, of course, but now that they had started the surgery, they were going to have to finish it with minimal light. The upside was Reese was afraid of the dark. Elizabeth knew that she should feel bad that Peter's son was deaf and in a dark daycare, but it meant that he had to scrub out of the surgery to go and check on him. It left Elizabeth to work with Robert free of competition.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Robert has just removed the spleen, and the surgery was going smoothly.

"I hesitate to say."

"We're ready to close 4-0 vicryl, please."

"I was just thinking Ms. Heather's body's been through quite enough. An accident, a coma, a brutal attack. The kindest thing might be to let her go in peace."

"Of course, we can't." His tone was stern with her from across the operating table.

"Be careful what you ask for; she's bradying down," the anesthesiologist interrupted.

Without full power, there were no alarms going off to signal what was happening with their patient, but Elizabeth and Robert worked in tandem to save her.

"It's hard to believe she's crashing, I can't think without all the alarms blaring. Try phenylephedrine." Robert was working frantically while Elizabeth performed chest compressions.

"Wait!" Elizabeth checked the patient's neck, "the neck veins are distended. No pulse in the aorta."

"Tamponade?"

"Exactly. 60 cc syringe, 18 gauge needle."

"Going in blind?" Robert looked up at her as she was passed the needle, reassurance in his eyes that he trusted her with the next step.

"Yeah. Ok. Retract the left lobe of the liver."

"Got it. This is living, huh? A pericardiocentesis without an electronic monitor. Careful, you don't punch the ventricle." Robert observed her as she inserted the needle into the pericardium sac around the heart, methodically draining it of fluid.

"Thanks, Robert. Got it."

"Give me a minute to check the pressure. I think it's coming up." a surgical tech said.

"Ho-hum. All in a day's work." Robert looked up at her, and she could see his thoughts in his eyes; they made a damn good team.

* * *

Elizabeth was exhausted after the long day. Being in the OR was usually a thrilling challenge, but operating on auxiliary power had taken that to a new level, one she didn't particularly care to revisit anytime soon. She was practically zoned out to the Zen rhythm of bagging the patient in recovery when Robert finally found her.

"Well done, Dr. Corday." He had found coffee somewhere and was absentmindedly stirring it as he came in. Robert didn't know where they stood anymore. It felt as if they had taken one rather large step forward and then two steps back when he found out she had hidden the trauma fellowship from him.

"Thank you," her voice was quiet as was the smile that came unbidden to her face at his words.

"I'd be remiss if I didn't say this, especially after today, you are an exceptional surgeon. It would be tragic for you to waste your talents on a trauma fellowship. Let me finish." He could tell she wanted to interrupt him, to argue about the fellowship. Robert received a slight nod in acknowledgment, and he held her gaze, willing her to give him some kind of sign that they weren't just going around in circles. At this point, Robert was concerned that he had just become a convenient friend, one that she would never really trust with the important things, and he needed to speak his mind.

"Now ...I'm aware that you don't relish working with me. But _your face, I can't resist_. But know this...I would do _anything_ in my power to have you stay in surgery. Including making myself as scarce as possible. Think about it."

Nothing. Robert got no reaction from her even as he was pleading with his eyes for her to say something. Robert walked around the bed to where Elizabeth sat.

"I'll take over." He had regained his familiar unaffected voice, "the cops wanna see you." And then he watched her walk out.

Elizabeth couldn't stop thinking about Robert as she walked with the police officer. What he had said to her. Truth be told, he often played a prominent role in her thoughts these days, Elizabeth didn't know how or when it happened. As Elizabeth was lead into the morgue to be shown the body of the suspected rapist, the power came on, casting light on the body and on her feelings for Robert. All Elizabeth wanted to do was turn away from the corpse of the attacker, a man who hung himself after brutalizing a coma patient, and walk into Robert's arms. To have him hold her. ' _Your face, I can't resist_.' That was what he had said to her with such sincerity that it stole her ability to speak.

The day wasn't over yet. Back down to the ER, but thankfully with power, Elizabeth was trying to play catch up so she could leave on time. She was making small talk with Mark while taking notes, and he was telling her why the backup generators shut down—a failed bearing in a fan.

"Oh well, that makes it all clear." Elizabeth didn't have the energy for anything other than sarcasm at this point. "I'll admit it, I'm not 100% comfortable in the dark." She didn't even look up from the chart she was scribbling away on and was caught off guard at Mark's comment.

"Oh, I guess a candlelit dinner would not be an enticing offer?"

Elizabeth couldn't tell if he was serious or joking and didn't want to find out. Mark was a sweet man, but the only one she was thinking about was Robert and her rather complicated feelings for him.

"No, I'm afraid not. I'm heading home."

"Some advice; I wouldn't do that" Mark clearly wasn't giving up and pivoted with ease. "Yeah, rule number one of trauma, after a day like today, you should shift gears, not take it home with you."

* * *

Dressed in street clothes, Robert was finally done for the day. While it had felt like the longest shift he had had in a while, in reality, it wasn't all that late. Plenty of time to meet Max at their favorite bar and drown himself in wine, a martini, a beer, scotch - well, anything but scotch. Robert had no desire to consume something he now associated so distinctly with Elizabeth. Elizabeth, who had just looked at him as he pleaded with her and said nothing. The elevator dinged open, and he stepped in when he heard his name.

"Robert, wait!" Elizabeth was coming down the hall after him, and Robert was of half a mind to hit the close door button on her. But her face, he couldn't resist after all and hit the door open instead. She stepped into the elevator, bag over her shoulder, looking ready to leave for the day.

"Elizabeth," he glanced at her, and there was something different about her face. Clearly nervous, Elizabeth was looking at him in a way he had never seen before. She took a step closer to him, closing the gap between them, and then placed both hands on his chest and slid them up to his shoulders.

"I don't want you to make yourself scarce." Robert's eyes, which had been watching her hands, snapped up at that, locking with hers. "I'd miss you far too much."

Robert blinked and nearly missed it as Elizabeth took a final step towards him, sliding her hands up and behind his neck and pulling him to her.

Elizabeth Corday was kissing him.

His arms came up and around her waist on their own accord, and he pulled her closer, letting out a soft moan against her mouth as she backed him up against the elevator wall. The elevator dinged, signaling the doors opening far too soon for Robert's liking, and she stepped away from him and glanced around. Miraculously no one was standing outside the elevator to see them.

Robert wasn't sure how they managed to escape the hospital without anyone noticing them, he thought the smile on his face was blinding enough to make up for Chicago's loss of power earlier, and a similar smile adorned Lizzy. They managed to catch a cab with relative ease when Robert remembered his plans to meet Max. He knew trying to cancel now wouldn't work; if he didn't show up at the bar, then the chances were high his friend would come looking for him. Robert had sounded miserable enough on the phone earlier for Max to be concerned and offer to ditch his caseload early for drinks. Elizabeth had been excited to meet Max, though when he mentioned his plans and Robert was temporarily unable to do anything thing but agree with her when she smiled at him like that. That's how they found themselves walking in one of Chicago's most well know cocktail lounges, the Green Mill.

It was a slow night and still early, so Max was already waiting at the bar. Tall and built like a linebacker, Max was naturally hard to miss, a trait he built upon with his penchant for a well-tailored suit. He turned his head when he heard the door open and stood up upon seeing Robert enter the room.

"Rocket, there you are. I was worried you'd get dragged back into that hell hole of a hospital you..." Max trailed off when he realized Robert wasn't alone and kept looking back and forth between Robert and Elizabeth, confusion setting in on his face. "Ah, hey man, you didn't say anything about bringing someone."

"Last minute change of plans. It was either ditch you, ditch her, or bring her along. And I sure as hell wasn't ditching Lizzy."

"Lizzy." The lightbulb had finally gone off for Max, and he looked between the pair, finally noticing their entwined hands and Identical grins. "You're Lizzy?" She nodded. "Rocket...you know I hate to tell you this, but I didn't think she actually existed." Robert looked pissed while Elizabeth burst out laughing.

"Hey, fuck you. I'm a surgeon, not a psych patient."

"Ok, ok. No need to beat me up, I've had my ass handed to me by you enough to last a lifetime." Max put his hands up in the air and took a step back.

"Lizzy, this is Maxwell Anderson, Max, this is Elizabeth Corday. You've been introduced, can we order drinks now?" Robert guided Elizabeth to a seat at the bar and ordered two scotches.

"So what the hell happened at work today? You sounded like someone kicked Gretel on the phone earlier." Max took another sip of his drink, eying Robert and Elizabeth carefully. He pulled out a small case and offered up a cigar to Robert and was shocked when Elizabeth took one along with his cutters and lighter. She made short work of lighting her cigar, and the weight seemed to lift off her shoulders as she took the first draw.

"Oh god, what didn't happen," Elizabeth answered and then downed her scotch in one go. The bartender scrutinized her carefully as she slid her glass towards him. "Don't worry, I'm a professional, and I'm really going to need another of those."

Max's mouth opened slightly as he watched her lace her fingers with Roberts on top of the bar.

"Rob. You wished really, really hard, didn't you?"

Robert made a face at his friend for hitting a little too close to home. He had, in fact, wished really, really hard. There might have been the occasional bargaining with god. Frankly, he was too happy to care about what he knew to be good-natured ribbing from Max. Max had spent his fair share to time listening to Robert talk about Elizabeth ever since he brought her back from London. It had started with 'I sponsored a surgeon' and then quickly turned into Lizzy this and Lizzy that. When Robert had shown up at Max's Christmas party at the Prudential building, he couldn't stop talking about the feisty British surgeon that had stayed in Chicago last minute for the holidays, to the point where several women Max tried to set him up with had walked away.

Most importantly, Robert had never been nervous to talk to a woman before, but when it came to Elizabeth, he had proven to be useless. Rocket Romano could usually smooth talk his way to a date or three, but where the British surgeon was concerned, he could barely string three non-surgical words together. And yet here they were. The three of them sitting at a bar having a drink, and Max was very clearly the third wheel.

"Yes, Maxwell, I wished really, really hard."

Elizabeth lit up at Robert's words, a million-dollar smile adorning her face as she turned towards Robert and kissed him.

"You know as horrible as today was, it's ended far better than I could have hoped for." Elizabeth looked at Robert as she spoke, happiness rolling off of her in waves. She then turned to Max and proceeded to tell him about their day. The trauma fellowship and Benton trying to poach it, complete with her father's commentary on Peter Benton. Robert made no effort to hide his glee at Charles Corday's harsh words for Elizabeth's ex. They took turns talking about their coma patient, being as discrete as possible, and spoke more about the challenge of performing surgery on auxiliary power. Max was able to read between the lines and understand that something happened to the patient while at the hospital, the lawyer in him knew not to ask further questions.

Several drinks in, Robert was regretting introducing Lizzy and Max. They were getting on thick as thieves, and with a similar sense of humor, it was unsurprising. He did not like his best friend and girlfriend ganging up on him.

Girlfriend.

It was a foreign concept that he mulled around in his head as he observed Lizzy and Max talking about places they had both been in London. Robert has no doubt that was what she was, though no words on the topic had been exchanged. So much had happened between them that he at least felt confident that Elizabeth wouldn't corner him in the elevator like that unless she was serious. He was, however, confused about the little details.

Like taking her home. They all had to work the next day, and the night would be coming to an end shortly. All Robert wanted to do was to bring her home with him and then make love to her. That was his ideal situation, at least, take Elizabeth to bed and never let her leave. The practical side of Robert told him that he needed to take things slow still. It had been a shitty day, and while Lizzy had given him an obvious sign of her feelings, drinks with Max after a shorty day did not qualify for a proper date. In other words, that was no way to treat a lady. A hot and steamy good night kiss, sure. Hot and steamy sex, no.

Robert really needed to stop thinking about hot and steamy sex with Elizabeth though else his well-tailored trousers would betray him when he needed to leave.

Eventually, Elizabeth excused herself and headed off to the restroom, leaving Max and Robert alone.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Rocket. When you called me earlier, I thought this woman had torn your heart out, yet you show up here with her on your arm, smiling like an idiot. What happened?"

Robert covered his face with his hands and laughed.

"Maxie, when I called you, I thought she had. I wasn't sure what to think about what was going on between us, and I tried to acknowledge that I had feelings for her. That I was willing to back away if that's what she wanted. Granted, part of this was disguised with a talk about a fellowship she is pursuing. But she just sat there and acted like it went In one ear and put the other."

"Jesus. That's clearly not the case now. She looks like a woman ready to jump you. "

"I'm not pushing my luck on that tonight."

Max gave him a look. College roommates for four years, Max knew just how much Robert enjoyed sex and couldn't believe he wasn't going to pursue it tonight.

"She practically jumped me in an elevator already. If she was comfortable with more happening tonight, do you really think I would have brought her to a bar to meet you?"

"No. And good one you for being able to read between the lines on where she's at. That's more willpower than I would have ever attributed to you where Lizzy Corday is concerned."

"First off, it's Elizabeth to you. Only I get to call her Lizzy," Max roared with laughter. "Shut up, you sleaze bag lawyer. And second, I'm not stupid. I know that I've had feelings for her far longer than she has for me. We're not on the same page yet. Same chapter, sure, and she seems to be a quick reader, but not the same page. I'm not willing to fuck this up because I can't keep my dick in my pants."

"I can respect that. It's gotta be _hard_ -"Robert interrupted him.

"We are _not_ making those jokes, Maxie. Hey, stop laughing."

Max couldn't. He was so happy for his friend, and they had imbibed just the right amount of alcohol that Elizabeth found both of them consumed by laughter when she returned.

"Ok, ladies, the girls in my dorm at boarding school could hold their liquor better than you. Perhaps it's time we called it a night?" Elizabeth said whilst shaking her head at the pair of them.

This set them off more. But with the promise of stories of Elizabeth's boarding school days, Max managed to pay the bill, insisting to Robert that it was his treat for being happily proven wrong on Elizabeth being imaginary. The trio managed to stumble out of the bar before midnight, just as it was starting to get crowded.

Elizabeth leaned into Robert as they stood on the sidewalk, waiting for a cab. Robert was a content man waiting on a taxi with Elizabeth's arms wrapped around his waist, and her head neatly tucked into the curve of his neck. Max managed to flag a cab down and opened the door allowing Robert and Elizabeth to take it. A round of good nights later and they were off to Elizabeth's flat. Robert was not looking forward to saying good night and leaving her there, but he knew it was what he needed to do. A long, searing kiss later, and she was safely in her building, when Robert finally gave the cab driver his address. It was the best good night he had had in a long time, and knew he would fall asleep dreaming of her face. His Lizzy. And for once the idea of her would not be just a dream.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

AN: Some quotes are from Season 5, Episode 21. A big thanks to everyone who has been reviewing so far.

Spring was in the air, and Elizabeth was indulging Carol's all-consuming appetite. It was Saturday morning, the first they both had off together in months, and had declared a girls brunch was in order. Their favorite weekend spot was a pub with an outdoor patio and bottomless mimosas. Well, bottomless mimosas for other people. Elizabeth had forgone the brunch drink to be supportive of Carol, who was eyeing the drinks on another table with envy.

"So this is, what did you call it? Elevenses?"

"Yes." Elizabeth was explaining the finer points of the meals a Hobbit eats since her friend's eating habits had started to resemble one. "You've got breakfast, Elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, and then supper."

"Hobbits sound like my kind of people," Carol managed in between bites of bread. They had placed their orders and were nibbling on the basket of bread and butter left on their table.

Carol had finally told her mother what had been going on the night before, and her very catholic mother was not thrilled. She managed to extract a promise from Carol to attend Mass that Sunday, and since it would be Mother's Day, Carol agreed. A late-night SOS had gone out to Elizabeth, and the Elevenses had been planned to deal with the fallout.

"How do you think your mum is going to be tomorrow? I know you said she was never a big fan of Doug's." Elizabeth was used to being cautious where mothers were concerned, having learned the hard way with her own.

"I don't know. I think she just needs time. It took me a while to come to terms with everything and decide what to do." It had been a long-overdue conversation, but Carol looked as if a weight had been lifted from her now that her mother knew about the pregnancy.

"So, just cross that you didn't say anything sooner?"

"Probably. That and I'm -"

"Not married," Elizabeth finished for her. The waiter had arrived with their food, and Elizabeth watched in amusement as Carol practically snatched the plates from the waiter; Elizabeth was going to need to leave a good tip for that.

"Yup. Unwed mother to be, and pregnant by an atheist that moved to the other side of the country. What would your mother react like?"

"Ha." Elizabeth snorted. "Madam Corday would have no issue with the not married part; she divorced my father quickly enough when she decided she was done being in a relationship. She would be more concerned with it being an unplanned pregnancy and how that would affect my career." Elizabeth adopted a pinched look, " 'You've worked so hard, Elizabeth, don't let having a child stop you for having a career. Find a good nanny now and have them move in.' " Elizabeth did her best impersonation of her mother and rolled her eyes. She could tell that Carol wasn't sure if she should laugh at the impersonation or be terrified at Elizabeth's mother.

"Yikes. Very career-minded then. I knew your dad was with being a surgeon, but that's the most you've ever talked about your mom." Carol had finished her Croque Monsieur at this point and had lost the hangry look from her eyes. Never get between a pregnant woman and her Elevenses.

"Oh yes, both workaholics, both at the top in their chosen fields. She never let being a wife or mother stop her." Two workaholics as parents, and yet her American colleagues often wondered how she could work as much as she did. Clearly, it was just genetics at this point.

"What kind of workaholic does a surgeon marry?"

"Mother's an astrophysicist and a senior lecturer at the University of London." Carol struggled and failed to keep the look of surprise from her face, and Elizabeth recognized it quickly. "Oh yes, my father overheard her talking about something to do with quantum mechanics, I think, in a pub and fell in love sight unseen. Mother was sitting in a booth behind him, and her friend got up to fetch a new round of drinks. He introduced himself by saying, 'You must be Belle, the only suitable name for a woman with a mind as beautiful as yours.' " The story of how her parents met always brought a smile to Elizabeth's face. Her father was a firm believer in 'the mind stays whilst beauty fades,' and Isabelle Corday was the most intelligent woman of his acquaintance, with her mind and looks becoming like a fine wine, only better with age. A trait that Elizabeth hoped her mother had passed on along with her fiery curls.

"Damn. What are you doing for her for Mother's Day?"

"Oh, it's not Mother's Day in England, and she's not even speaking to me right now, so there's that." Elizabeth couldn't tell if the bitter taste in her mouth was from her bad coffee or her words. Both, it was her mother, after all.

"Well, if you're mom isn't speaking to you...you could come to mass with my mom and me tomorrow."

"You mean come and play buffer for you in case your mum is still cross."

"How about this. You can either come to mass tomorrow or tell me what's been going on between you and Mark lately." Carol gave her a pointed look, knowing full well that Elizabeth had been quiet where Mark was concerned.

Elizabeth asked when and where mass was rather quickly, having no desire to say that while Mark has attempted some relatively harmless flirting, she was interested in a different medical professional. She and Robert hadn't had time to discuss the rather seismic shift in their relationship, and she certainly wasn't ready to bare all to Carol. It was time to change the topic away from mothers and men, and Elizabeth did her best to turn the focus of the rest of their brunch to Carol. Piling Carol with food was turning out to be a convenient diversion, and Elizabeth managed to escape the remainder of the weekend without a single question about her love life.

* * *

The week had flown by for Robert. Work was going great during the day, and his evenings were spent grabbing dinner or drinks with Elizabeth, whichever her schedule allowed. They had yet to go on what Robert considered to be a proper date; everything had been rushed after work. No getting dressed up and going out to a nice place, no staying out all night, and certainly no Lizzy coming home with him. As much as Robert wanted her to go home with him, he had no desire to rush her. They were finally reading out of the same chapter, but he was still a few pages ahead of her, and Robert was happy to wait while she caught up.

One of the things they were not on the same page about was the Trauma Fellowship. Robert had made it very clear that he believed Elizabeth would be wasting her time with it and that he would not be voting for her. Perhaps not the best way to start a relationship, but he had no desire to back down from his stance. Elizabeth was far more talented than what the fellowship could offer.

Instead, he had focused on the Cardiothoracic Fellowship. Peter Benton still appeared undecided about if he would take the fellow even though he had been saying all the right words to Robert. It was a pity that Elizabeth had no interest in Cardiothoracic, or he could have put her name forward and watched as she slaughtered the competition. Then again, Robert knew if she had been interested in that particular specialty, she would have never left England and would be working with her father.

Anspaugh has been pressing him all week for the vote on the Trauma Fellowship, and Robert has finally run out of excuses to put it off; he was Acting Chief of the ER after all. It had weighed on him all day as he went into surgery with Elizabeth. A trauma had come in, and the A-team had been called to clean it up.

"So thought about what I said?" Robert looked across the operating table at Elizabeth, enjoying the thrill of getting to work with her.

"What was that?" Elizabeth was being obtuse in her response, and he knew it. The slight arch of an eyebrow from her was all he needed to tell.

"About not wasting your life on this trauma fellowship." He was hoping she would pick up the gauntlet he had so readily thrown.

"What and miss out on cases like this?" She gave a weak attempt at sarcasm in response, clearly too absorbed in their work to pay attention to him.

"Uh ha, you're avoiding the question."

"Frankly, I don't think I've got a lot of options at the moment, do I." At this, she looked up at him, a defensive edge creeping into her voice.

"I'd consider you for cardiothoracic. I could sneak in a late application."

"I thought that belonged to Peter."

"Ha well. He didn't hesitate to uh throw his hat into your rice bowl, did he." Robert knew he had Elizabeth's attention. Her ambitious nature could never resist a challenge, and dangling an opportunity to challenge Benton was something she would struggle to pass up. Elizabeth would go for it and look past the trauma fellowship. She was a Corday, after all.

They were coming out of the OR when he got a taste of the Anspaugh Ambush first hand. Suited and booted, Anspaugh was ready to leave for the night, and Weaver and Greene were standing by, ready to place their votes. Elizabeth knew what it was about as he passed of their patient to her to take to recovery.

"Look, I wanna do this now; where are you on this trauma fellowship." Anspaugh was looking at Robert as the Acting Chief of the ER.

"Well, I think I've already told you, I don't really see the need. But if I'm the minority, I vote for the Georgetown guy." Robert presented a disinterested façade to his colleagues, knowing full well that the aftermath of the vote was going to be ugly for someone.

"Kerry?" Anspaugh turned to Weaver next.

"Peter Benton's the strongest candidate." Of course, Weaver would say that. She still couldn't look Elizabeth or Robert in the eye, so why would she want Elizabeth working out of the ER.

"Mark?"

"I disagree, Elizabeth Corday brought us the idea, she has passion and certainly talent-" Robert suspected that Greene was voting with his cock at took the opportunity to interrupt him.

"Of course she does, but I don't want to see either one of them wasted on this, no offense."

Anspaugh didn't appreciate Robert's interruption, however. "Well, they both applied, didn't they. Well, it looks like you're all of separate minds. It's late; I want to go home, so I'm going to make this quick. Peter Benton, it is. Thank you." And with that, Anspaugh walked off having decided Elizabeth's career.

* * *

"Hey."

"That's not a very encouraging entrance. "Elizabeth was tucked away in an x-ray room, reviewing the post-surgery films from her patient when Mark Greene walked in.

"I'm sorry. You didn't get the trauma fellowship ship." He leaned against the doorway, watching as her mood darkened at his words.

"Is it Peter?" Elizabeth tried to keep the anger from creeping into her voice.

"Yeah." Mark was still watching her, waiting for some sign that it was safe to approach.

"Well. That's that then." To say that Elizabeth was cross was an understatement. She was more than cross; she was livid. Peter. Bloody. Benton. Not even a good enough shag for the level of headache he was now causing her. Sure he was lovely in the moment, but she should have trusted her first instinct. 'Shedding your skin Dr. Snake she had once told him. How very accurate indeed.

"I was looking forward to working with you." There was something in Mark's tone of voice that made Elizabeth uncomfortable.

"Yeah, same here." She moved across the room to pick up another set of x-rays, determined to act as if there was no double meaning in his comment.

"So, now what?"

"Well, I guess I'm left to ferret around picking up scraps where ever I can find them."

"It doesn't mean Peter was a better candidate." Mark was still watching her; his eyes were lingering a little too long for Elizabeth's liking.

"Oh, I know." She instilled a more dangerous edge to her voice, the back off coming through loud and clear with Mark turning the conversation away from the fellowship.

"How much more time do you have on your internship?" Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at his question. She had momentarily forgotten that she frequently put Mark Greene into the inept male friend category for a reason.

"Three weeks."

"You'll have your license you can do anything you want." Mark had yet again continued with a dangerous topic. A very, very inept male indeed.

"Except the trauma fellowship," she snapped the film into the lightbox with a little too much force, and it made an audible noise.

"Just about anything."

"How did the voting go?" The curiosity got the better of Elizabeth, and she had to know just how badly she had lost out.

"I think you know."

"Yeah, Romano didn't want either of us, Anspaugh was keen on Benton, don't tell me you were."

"No, I wanted you, but I'm not really objective." There it was. The confirmation from Mark that he had, in fact, been hitting on her that all the support she had been getting from him on the fellowship was because he found her attractive.

"Really." Elizabeth managed to keep a neutral tone while her mind ran rampant with just how this conversation would have been going if she had gotten the fellowship. Wondering if Mark would have had the confidence to be more forward with her if he was delivering good news.

"You know what you need?"

"What?" Alcohol. She needed a drink, and any would do.

"A milkshake, what time do you get off?"

Elizabeth scoffed at him. "Is this more of your bad day therapy?"

"It's free of charge, I'll come find you," and Mark exited the room.

Great. Just bloody great. On the one hand, Elizabeth knew she needed all the friends she could get. On the other, she couldn't trust whatever strings came with Mark Greene's friendship. Elizabeth would never know for sure, but the conversation had left her believing that he had voted for her in the fellowship because he was making a pass at her. Bollocks.

* * *

She found Peter in one of the small surgeons' lounges a while later; her intent was to rip the band-aid off, so to speak, and get this conversation over with.

"I supposed a congratulations are in order."

"Look, Elizabeth, you don't have to say that. "Peter had gotten up from his chair and moved towards her as if to comfort her. In times gone by, she might have welcomed it but not tonight.

"Peter, I'm just trying to be gracious."

"Thank you." Elizabeth could tell from the tone of his voice that Peter understood this would change their friendship. Elizabeth was trying to keep a civil disposition when the door opened.

"Peter. "Robert, however, was not striving for gracious, and his stormy demeanor was making that clear. "Elizabeth, would you excuse us, please."

As much as Elizabeth wished to be a fly on the wall for that conversation, she knew better than to try and stay. Elizabeth was not above lying in wait for Robert though, when he was done tearing into Benton.

Robert's conversation with Peter was short-lived, and when he exited the lounge, he almost walked straight into Elizabeth. She had her arms crossed, and her face told him she was ready to go to war.

"We're you serious?"

"What?" Robert was caught off guard, still on edge from his conversation with Peter, and wasn't keeping up well.

"The offer you made today, were you serious?"

Cardiothoracic. Elizabeth was talking about the fellowship he had offered. Robert knew she wouldn't be able to refuse it as a backup, but he hadn't expected her to move that quickly on it.

"Yes. I didn't think Cardiothoracic interested you, though."

"I..." Elizabeth struggled to find the words, her intent demeanor crumbling the moment he questioned her. "I don't have many options if I want to stay on at County and..." a great sigh escaped her, and the strong facade Elizabeth presented began to crumble. "I've had a far worse evening than you can imagine." It came out in a rush, and her actions followed suit. In the middle of the hallway, she was reaching for him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his neck, seeking comfort.

All Robert could do was pull her close, all the while looking around to make sure they weren't seen. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for her. All Robert wanted to do was hold her and make everything better, but he didn't even know what else had happened.

"Lizzy, honey, what's wrong. This isn't the kind of reaction I expected about the fellowship." She pulled away ever so slightly at his words, just enough to look at him as she spoke.

"No. Something...something happened after, and I just.. I just want you to make it all better."

He could do that. Happily, whatever Elizabeth needed, Robert would do.

"When do you get off?"

"I've got another hour to go."

"Honey, I'm off now. Just leave with me. If anyone gives you grief over leaving early, I'm sure Anspaugh owes you a favor or two for helping with all of the Surgery admin. Let me take care of you." To Robert's delight, she smiled at his suggestion and didn't hesitate before nodding in agreement.

"Ok."

* * *

It had taken time for them to change out of their scrubs, but Robert had managed to get them out of the hospital promptly. They had their last patient to check on before leaving, it was still early, but it looked like she might be permanently paralyzed—another thing to add to the list of bad things that happened this evening. The outcome of the evening was finally in Robert's control, though, as he pulled up to the house. His house. With his Lizzy in the car. She had been silent the entire drive, never once questioning where he was taking her. Robert's plan went as far as the mango sorbet in the freezer, a glass of wine, and plenty of Gretel love until he could figure out what else had happened.

Gretel was awake and thrilled to find that it wasn't just Robert walking through the door. Robert was pleased to see that Elizabeth had instantly perked up at Gretel's enthusiastic greeting; she really was a dog person. He took her through to the lounge and had her curl up on the couch while he went into the kitchen for bad mood snacks. When he reentered the lounge, Robert found Elizabeth seared on the floor and leaning against the couch with Gretel's head in her lap.

"Hey."

"Hey. Are those for me?" Elizabeth asked, looking up to see his hands full with wine and sorbet.

"No, Lizzy, these are for Gretel, she's had a long day without me."

He walked a crossed the room and sat down on the couch, and passed her the wine and sorbet. Elizabeth dug in whole Gretel made a face that stated plainly, 'Dad, where is my snack?'. Robert had a milk bone in his pocket for that particular look.

"So, do you want to tell me what else happens today? I can always pile you with chocolate if you don't."

There was a long silence as Elizabeth dug into the sorbet, her appetite for it indicating it wouldn't last long. Robert was content to wait in silence while she took out her frustrations on the sweet treat and wine, though. Roughly half of the pint was gone when she finally spoke.

Mark Greene was her topic of conversation. A man that she thought she was becoming friends with, partially due to her friendship with Carol Hathaway. At some point, Greene had taken an interest in her. Robert couldn't blame him for having an intelligent thought once in a while, but he wasn't surprised. He had, after all, cornered Greene on the very topic not long ago. Robert was surprised to find that Greene had tried flirting with her and then decided that tonight of all nights was the perfect time to be more forward in his interest. "I wanted you, but I'm not really objective."

Robert wanted to hit the man, but a black belt surgeon against a weak chinned ER doc was hardly a fair fight. All he could think was how dare Greene corner Elizabeth when she was feeling horrible and all but tell her that he voted for her because he found attractive. We're those his words? No. Was that the meaning he meant to convey? Yes. An ugly and protective side of Robert came out at it, one Robert did not realize existed. He wanted to hit Greene for making Elizabeth feel worthless after losing the fellowship to her ex. A bubbling rage was forming in him as she spoke, describing all the little ways Greene had been flirting with her, cumulating in the unwelcome conversation tonight. Elizabeth had thought that he had taken the hint when she had declined to spend time with him outside of work on several occasions, putting him in the inept cans harmless male friend category. She felt it was a slap in the face to learn that the only person who voted for her had ulterior motives.

At some point, she ran out of steam, having polished off her sorbet and wine. Physical and emotionally exhausted, Elizabeth leaned into him for support and rested her head against his knee. Gretel had long since drifted off to sleep with Elizabeth, gently stroking her head. The two of them on the floor together warmed Robert's heart. His Lizzy fit so well in his life that at that moment, Robert knew he was dangerously close to losing his heart to her.

The silence that had settled throughout the room was punctuated by Roberts yawn. It was late, well after midnight, and Elizabeth had stirred at his yawn.

"I should go, it's late." Elizabeth got up, trying not to disturb Gretel as she stood. "I need to call a cab." Robert stood up at that, not wanting her to leave.

"Stay." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "It's late enough as it is. You won't get to bed until at least two if you have to call and wait for a cab."

Elizabeth had placed her arms around his neck and had begun to gently stroke the delicate skin there. Her hands and her face were at opposite ends of her emotion spectrum, though, with Elizabeth's face showing how uncomfortable she was with Robert's suggestion.

"Robert, I, "she looked away, trying to find the right words, "I uh-" Robert had started smiling at her, and the slightest hint of a laugh escaped him. "Hey! You're laughing at me." Elizabeth tried to pull away from him, but Robert held her tight with one arm and brought his free hand to caress her cheek.

"Elizabeth, relax, it's not that kind of night. And I didn't mean to laugh at you; you just looked a little too awkward trying to find the right words, adorably, of course." Thankfully Elizabeth smiled and leaned in to kiss him. "I just want you to stay, nothing more, nothing less. I'll even promise to behave. Let me take care of you, Elizabeth."

For a moment, she was silent, and she held him in her penetrating gaze, trying to determine his sincerity.

"Alright." It was quiet enough that Robert almost missed it, when he realized what she said, he kissed her quickly before pulling her closer and nuzzling his face into her neck.

Robert "Rocket" Romano had shared his bed with women on many occasions, but never did he imagine that the most intimate night would be spent sex free. Elizabeth wasn't clad in any delightful lingerie, just a pair of borrowed pajama pants and one of his "Rocket" scrub tops, and she was all the more beautiful for it. Robert lay awake for a while after Elizabeth dozed off, arms wrapped around him and her head resting on his chest, contemplating how extraordinarily happy he was. He would give anything to fall asleep with her every night and wake up with her every morning.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

AN: Edit to update a grammatical typo that a kind review brought up. I am very dyslexic and much appreciated this.

AN: Thank you again for the reviews. Also, it was commented that I committed a grievous sin and forgot about Second Breakfast. One of my favorite inside jokes in the LotR movies is when Pippin asks about Second Breakfast and Merry tells him he doesn't think Aragorn knows about Second Breakfast. Its a Hobbit meal added for the movies and was never in the books. Season 5 of ER aired before Fellowship of the Ring came out so I left it out. I fully believe in Second Breakfast though.

Whispers and sly looks had been following her for a few days now. At first, Elizabeth thought it was out of pity for not getting the Trauma Fellowship, the most logical cause for gossip, and she had been avoiding the ER. Elizabeth knew she couldn't ignore the looks forever, though, and determined to find out if there was more to the gossip than she thought.

A well-placed bribe of Godiva got Elizabeth access to hear the Gospel of the Gossip known as Shirley. The topic making its way through the gossip mill was where she disappeared to the night of the Fellowship vote. Mark Greene had gone up to surgery to look for Elizabeth at the end of the shift and asked after her, claiming they had made plans. When they told Mark that Elizabeth had already left, he went back down to the ER to look for her and enlisted Carol Hathaway's help. Still no Elizabeth. And now that Elizabeth was avoiding the ER, Mark Greene was starting to complain that it was Romano's fault. According to Shirley, there were several things that Dr. Greene just couldn't understand. The list included: how Romano could fire Elizabeth so unceremoniously, make her professional life hell, vote against her for the Fellowship, prevent her from being on call to the ER this week, and yet somehow manage to be friends with Elizabeth after all of that. Shirley was grinning like a Cheshire Cat and placed particular emphasis on the friends part.

"American men really are thick," Elizabeth said while making a frantic show of rolling her eyes. "I made a New Year's resolution to butt heads with my colleagues less knowing full well that I haven't exactly endeared myself to all of them."

"They do like to call you Queen Elizabeth behind your back." The amusement was evident in Shirley's voice. "But New Year's resolutions doesn't explain why Dr. Greene thinks you're _friends_ with Dr. Romano."

Elizabeth was not liking the Gospel, according to Shirley, at the moment. Her sacrifice at the altar of gossip was clearly not enough to keep the conversation going in the direction that she wanted, and Shirley knew it.

"I'll make a deal with you, Dr. Corday." The conversation was quickly transforming from listening to the Gospel of the Gossip known as Shirley to making a deal with the devil. "I won't let it slip to my counterparts in the ER that _you've_ been the one setting the surgery schedule for weeks if you tell me why Dr. Greene thinks you and Dr. Romano are friends."

Deal with the Devil indeed. Shirley knew far more than she had let on, and it made Elizabeth uneasy. She had been under the impression that Anspaugh hadn't told anyone about Elizabeth handing the departed admin.

"It was after a Trauma conference I was supposed to be speaking at. Long story short, I missed it due to circumstances out of my control, and by the time I arrived, it was over. I was with Dr. Greene and decided that the hotel bar was an excellent solution to a horrible afternoon. It turns out Dr. Romano went to the conference and was drinking at the bar after. I saw him there, hugged him, and then promptly stole his glass of scotch while he was distracted. An emergency calls for alcohol. He wanted to know why I hadn't been at the conference and bought more scotch to get the story out of me. Dr. Greene was there and witnessed the age-old tradition of people bonding over a good dram while taking about their horrible day." Elizabeth tried her best to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible. It was the truth, but Elizabeth hoped that Shirley wouldn't read between the lines to realize that it wasn't the whole truth.

"So, this wasn't a meeting of the Bullet-Headed Committee then?" Shirley had the upper hand and knew it. Elizabeth felt as if she had gone to the crossroads at midnight by mistake. Shirley knew there was more to Elizabeth's story and was taking great delight in the look of dread that had settled onto Elizabeth's face.

"Shirley, I don't-"

"Save it, Dr. Corday," Shirley interrupted. "I know you set the schedule for Surgery these days, and that includes the nurses' schedules as well, so I'm not here to ask questions that could get me on the graveyard shift. But perhaps instead of avoiding the ER, you should make it known to Dr. Greene that his advances are unwelcome." Shirley had officially made it on Elizabeth's list of people to keep happy at all costs. Far too much dangerous knowledge in one person, whom at least for now was promising to keep quiet.

It dawned on Elizabeth that Shirley's dangerous knowledge was a double-edged sword. If careful, she could take the gossip Shirley had about her and wield it in her favor. A treacherous smile appeared on Elizabeth's face, and it was now Shirley's turn to be nervous.

The ER was alright with the sound of his name. Unfortunately, not in any way that Robert liked. His phone code system was not going over well with the masses, and there were whispers of gossip as well, something about how he was actively sabotaging Lizzy's career. And they wondered why they got a phone code system installed in the first place. Technically it was his way of taking out his anger towards Greene, but the gossip about him took away any regret that Robert had for installing the system.

To his delight, Elizabeth had been giving serious consideration to Cardiothoracic, and Robert had managed to pull her into some of the surgeries that week. Not that she needed an introduction to the specialty, but to give the other surgeons a chance to see her shine. That and forget that Robert had pushed Peter Benton as a candidate in the first place. Benton, who had joined them in the OR and irritated Robert enough to bring up the Cardiothoracic Fellowship with Elizabeth, who was now very much not pleased with him.

Elizabeth and Anspaugh seemed to be on the same page today and tag-teamed him in the scrub room. Elizabeth, over her issue with him bringing up the Fellowship in front of Peter and Anspaugh over the phone code system. Robert got to experience a form of the Anspaugh Ambush firsthand with that one. He didn't like it, especially since his girlfriend was smirking at him like a cat who caught the canary. Boo Lizzy. Two could play at the petulant children game. Thankfully his day was almost over, and that meant dinner and drinks with Max and his girlfriend. The first official double date and Robert just hoped that Elizabeth would be done acting superior by then.

Robert was making his final rounds of the day through the ER and noticed something was...off. The staff, at least the nurses, were looking at him with something similar to respect. Maybe the code system had been fixed quicker than he hoped, and they were just grateful. They were looking at Elizabeth as well, who was downstairs for a "surprise" congratulations for Carol Hathaway, whom he had discovered was pregnant. Elizabeth had known for a while and hadn't mentioned it claiming it wasn't her place to talk about it. Robert could easily respect that while still being grumpy about being out of the loop.

What was Robert was surprised to find in the ER was an ever so slight hostility from the nursing staff towards Mark Greene. There was nothing obvious, no outright glaring or rude remarks, but a hint of curtness in their interactions with Greene that stood out. Just enough that Greene could tell something was off and be confused about. An interesting tidbit for Robert to file away for another time.

"Hey, are you ready?" Lizzy had managed to sneak up behind him as he was sorting through the last of his paperwork.

"That depends on if you're still grumpy with me." He gave her his best pouty voice while refusing to look at her.

"I won't be grumpy with you if you're ready to leave." Her voice was teasing, more so than if the majority of the staff were in the ER rather than outside talking to Carol Hathaway.

Robert turned to face Elizabeth and momentarily forgot how to put a sentence together. She was dressed for dinner, something on the more formal side to celebrate Max winning another case, and she was stunning. A long black dress hugged every part of her, and Elizabeth had worn her hair down as he had asked. Her coat was draped over her arm, and her red lips turned upwards in a smug smile. Elizabeth knew very clearly that Robert was momentarily speechless.

"Uh. Wow. Um. You. You look, you look beautiful."

"Thank you." Elizabeth had taken Robert's temporary loss of speech to take a good look at him. "You look very handsome yourself." And he was. Elizabeth often felt as if she wanted to kiss Robert's tailor, whomever he was; he did an impeccable job. Elizabeth often caught herself openly starting at Robert's ass in his finely tailored trousers when she hoped no one was looking.

Tonight was no exemption. A well-fitted navy dinner jack with black satin lapels adorned Robert with matching blue trousers. Elizabeth couldn't help but lick her lips ever so slightly at the sight of him. It was his turn to smirk at her actions.

"We should get going. Don't want to be late to meet your friends." She said, trying to act if she hadn't been caught staring.

Robert and Elizabeth snuck out of the ER and exited the hospital just as the staff returned from the ambulance bay. Another close call that Elizabeth knew to be pushing their luck. Sooner or later, the truth would come out, and Elizabeth just hoped to have as much privacy as possible until that moment.

Dinner with Max and his girlfriend Jo was an enjoyable affair. With very few female friends, Elizabeth had been thrilled to meet any woman she didn't work with. Jo was a historic preservationist with a specialty in architecture and worked in the office of a successful Chicago Architect. An intelligent woman with a sharp sense of humor, Jo and Elizabeth hit it off instantly to the point where they ignored the men entirely for the first round of drinks.

"Rob, I'm regretting introducing those two. I win a big case, and my girlfriend isn't even paying attention to me." Max said the last part loudly enough for Elizabeth and Jo to take notice.

"Max, my dear, we've been living and breathing this case for months now. I'd like to celebrate the fact that it's over by talking about something that's _not law-related_." Jo rolled her eyes at law-related, hoping to drive home her exasperation.

"Fair enough," Max responded good-naturedly now that he had everyone's attention. "How about something we all can talk about then?"

"Sure." Jo turned away from Max to face Robert. "Rob, what's it like to work with your girlfriend? Please tell me the two of you manage conversations that revolve around topics other than surgery?"

"Well, thankfully, Elizabeth doesn't wear anything like her current attire, or no one would think I was intelligent enough to pass mead school, let alone college." Elizabeth blushed at his words and took a sip of her wine to hide it.

"Elizabeth, please tell me he isn't this" Max paused as he searched for the right word, "sappy at work?"

"No," she said, laughing, "light sarcasm is his baseline, and if you can't keep up, best keep out of his way."

"Speaking of work, Lizzy, did you notice any weird vibe in the ER today?"

"Ah. That." A guilty look adorned her face at Robert's question. Shirley worked much more quickly than she had anticipated, and the newest gossip had spread like wildfire.

"That sounds intriguing. Workplace gossip?" Jo leaned in, wanting to know more about the daily drama of working in a hospital.

"We're going to need more drinks for this." Elizabeth's wine glass was empty, and this was not a story to be told sober.

At Elizabeth's suggestion, Max caught the attention of the waiter and ordered a bottle of Caymus for the table. Their food and wine arrived soon after, and as they ate, Elizabeth filled them in on what gossip their favorite OR Nurse had been spreading on Elizabeth's behalf.

"So let me get this straight, you told the biggest gossip you work with that you've been avoiding working in the ER because Dr. Greene has been hitting on you, and took it a step too far when he told you he voted for you in a fellowship because he was biased and 'was looking forward to working with you'?" Max had stopped eating and had been staring opened mouth at Elizabeth as she told her tale.

"Yes."

"And then, to throw suspicion off of your new relationship with Rob, you told the Gossip known as Shirley, that you were so upset you spilled it all to Rob when he ran into you after the vote and asked how you were doing. And that he took you for a very well deserved drink when you told him." More disbelief from Max, who was now shaking his head.

"Yes." Elizabeth looked to Robert as she answered Max and could see he was still angry with Mark Greene. Robert was leaned back in his chair, sipping on his wine, and wore a stony expression on his face. Elizabeth reached out and took his free hand, caressing it with her, and he rewarded her efforts with a smile.

"Lizzy, I'm still confused about why the ER staff was treating me all nice and respectful though after I installed the phone system."

"That's just it, Robert, it's because of the phone code system that they were acting that way. I told Shirley that you wanted to get back at Greene and when I shot down reporting him or you hitting him, you decided to be a little more...shall we say underhanded."

Robert just stared at her. "Lizzy. That's exactly why I put in that stupid phone system."

"Oh, I know." She took a sip of her wine. "And now Shirley knows. And she let it slip to the ER nurses who they really had to blame, and more importantly, why they should blame him. We're they peeved at suffering for Greene's attempts at hitting on me? Absolutely. Did they understand why something had to be done against him? Oh yes. And apparently, they offered to ah, take over for you. They didn't take kindly to finding out that Mark Greene would use a fellowship vote to get me to go out with him."

"Elizabeth, out of curiosity, have you always caused this much trouble, or is this a newly acquired habit? I'm trying to determine what level of friendship we'll have." Jo was looking at her with interest, intrigued by the prospect of a new friend.

"Oh Jo, I've _always_ been this much trouble."

"Cheers to that." As Jo and Elizabeth raised their glasses to each other, Max and Robert shared a look of concern. They pitied the poor unsuspecting people that would come across the two women together.

"Are the two of you sure you work in a hospital and not tabloid, Rob? I feel like you deal with more drama than surgery there." Max looked at Robert as he spoke, shaking his as he thought of all the workplace drama stories he had heard since Robert returned from London.

"Honestly, I feel like it's gotten worse since I've become acting Chief of the ER. It seemed like a good idea at the time, just the right kind of ass-kissing when Anspaugh was overworked and in a bad mood."

"Just keep it up, Robert, I think he's going to step down from admin soon, and you'll be in the perfect position to pick up Chief of Surgery at the very least." Robert looked over at Elizabeth in surprise at her words.

At this point, dinner had been cleared away, and a round of sambuca had been brought out for the table. Elizabeth explained how Anspaugh had been passing off more and more of his Chief of Surgery duties to her, to the point where she was essentially doing half of the workload. The more she took on, the more talkative Anspaugh became about how he was using his newly found free time and how much his daughter loved having him home. It had gotten to the point where Anspaugh had let it slip that his daughter Evette had asked if he really needed to be Chief of Surgery and Chief of Staff.

Elizabeth frequently found herself talking to Anspaugh more about being the child of an ambitious surgeon than actual surgery, and that Anspaugh greatly admired her father for refusing to take on promotions while Elizabeth was still young. She felt confident that Anspaugh wouldn't be able to make it through the summer without stepping down from at least one position to have more time with Evette.

"Robert, you're the most likely candidate to take over the department whenever that happens, and Anspaugh has as a whole been pleased with how you've run the ER." Elizabeth finished.

"So to recap the evening, I won a significant case, Elizabeth used the gossip mill at work for good instead of evil, Elizabeth you'll have your long-overdue medical license soon, and Robert is being secretly evaluated for an end of summer promotion."

"You've left out that I've found a new partner in crime." Jo added.

"Yeah, well, we were hoping you ladies would forget about that. I'm not sure if Chicago is going to survive the two of you becoming friends." The over the top sarcasm in Robert's voice made the table laugh.

After dinner, drinks continued on for some time, the conversations strayed away from workplace dramas and turned towards summer plans. Promises of trips to the beach and weekend get-togethers were made, and Jo had even convinced Elizabeth to join her for weekend Pilates classes.

At the end of the night, Robert and Elizabeth found themselves walking along the Chicago Riverwalk, the evening having been to lovely to call it a night.

"So, where exactly are we walking to?" Elizabeth had her hand in Robert's, strolling along the river aimlessly.

"Where ever you want, Lizzy, I'm happy to let you lead the way." She stopped at his words, and Robert was observing her. He thought she was asking more than just about their walk on the river.

"And...and if I'm still not ready for more than this?" Elizabeth looked nervous, and her grip on his hand tightened. While Robert had hoped that after a few weeks of dating, Elizabeth might be ready for more to their relationship, he wasn't willing to jeopardize how far they had come.

"I'm happy to let you lead Elizabeth." He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her waist and brought his free hand up to caress her cheek. To his delight, she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. When Elizabeth finally opened her eyes, there was nothing but adoration in them.

"You mean a great deal to me, Robert, and I don't want to make the same mistakes I've always made of rushing in headfirst." Elizabeth leaned in, resting her forehead against his and ever so quietly said, "I want this to be something that lasts far beyond how dishy you look tonight, something that...is _defining_ in my life. You mean so much to me, I can't afford to screw this up."

"Elizabeth," Robert was so overcome he could barely speak. "We are absolutely in agreement on what this means. You've had me for quite some time now, and I will happily wait for you, as long as it takes."

"Well then, I promise no to take too long."

They strolled the river until the wee hours of the morning, hand in hand the entire time.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

AN: Some quotes taken from Season 6, Episode 1. The lyrics are from Elton John's "Rocket Man"

In exciting news, I finished the cover art for the story!

Also to Aranwyn Nina Song, that was completely my dyslexia making a typo last chapter. Thanks for pointing it out, I edited the line to be correct.

Several weeks had passed, and the heat of summer was beating down on Chicago just as Carol's displeasure was beating down on Elizabeth. The gossip Elizabeth had set into motion at the end of May eventually made its way to Carol. Carol, who was best friends with Mark.

While Carol hadn't traced the gossip back to Elizabeth, she was mad that Elizabeth wouldn't dispute it. She didn't believe that Mark was the type to vote for someone for a Fellowship because he found them attractive. Clearly, the desk clerk named Cynthia didn't ring a bell, nor did the time Carol caught her and Mark having sex in the lounge.

With Carol being cross at her, Elizabeth put more effort into cultivating a friendship with Jo. The idea of having friends outside of work was too great a draw to ignore, and Elizabeth often found herself grabbing breakfast with Jo or squeezing in a weekend Pilates class with her. When Elizabeth's medical license finally came in, it was Jo that proposed they all go out for drinks to celebrate.

It had been the happiest Elizabeth had been in a long while, slowly finding a rhythm of work and pleasure. For the first time since moving to America, Elizabeth felt like she was making a life for herself.

Pity there was no job offer to accompany the new life she was building. Elizabeth had gone forward with applying to the Cardiothoracic Fellowship, but even with Robert's help on that, she felt as if she had a very slim chance of getting it. Her application was late, and the lead surgeon had one foot firmly in the boys' club camp. The pragmatic side of Elizabeth applied to other hospitals, something that caused her grief with Robert initially. He wanted her to stay on at County, but they both knew her options were limited, and so far County hadn't offered a job. The best Robert could do was advise her on which hospitals to pursue programs at and hope for a miracle that allowed them to continue to work together.

That's how Elizabeth found herself elbow deep in a trauma with a Cardiothoracic surgeon from Rush waiting on her. Charles Cameron.

"Well, well, well, this is quite a convention. Charlie Cameron, still at Rush?" Robert had impeccable timing as always. "Haven't seen you in, ah, oh gosh, who really cares. So ah, what brings you out to our fair land?" Robert was ignoring Cameron and was instead watching Elizabeth the entire time.

She had told Robert she was applying at Rush, but while it had the best program, it had been Roberts least favorite, and now she knew why. Charles Camera was a tall and attractive man with a full head of dark brown hair. Robert would have liked the Fellowship better if Cameron was old and ugly.

"Coffee actually, I hear it's the best in the city." Cameron clearly knew he was irritating Robert and just looked on at Elizabeth with a rather knowing smile. Something about his look was familiar in a rather annoying way. Robert left shortly after Cameron's comment in a huff, and Elizabeth knew she'd have to deal with that later.

* * *

The rumor mill was alight with the news that Anspaugh was stepping down and that Robert was the most likely replacement. While most of the hospital felt indifferent to the gossip, the ER was not thrilled. They were even less delighted to hear that the vote was taking place today.

The meeting with heads of departments was in full swing, and Robert was enjoying the fact that he had managed to keep Kerry Weaver out of the loop long enough for her to be late. Anspaugh didn't even bother to stop and acknowledge Greene or Weaver or to catch them up. The heads of department finished giving their recommendations, all in Robert's favor, before Anspaugh turned to Greene.

"Mark?"

"Well, I hate to be the voice of dissent. It certainly isn't personal, Robert, but I feel I should be honest."

"Absolutely." Which Robert knew meant not personal my ass. He knew anything Greene had to say would be personal, mainly after it had gotten out that Robert had punished the ER for Greene using the Fellowship to hit on Elizabeth. Half the staff didn't believe the rumors, but the other half had seen Elizabeth turn Greene down enough to think there was something to them.

"As ah acting Chief of the ER for the past few months, Dr. Romano has, well, there hasn't been a great deal of support. His management style is, I guess, abrupt. Ahh. Several members of our staff have ah. Well, they've even found it offensive." Greene paused, seemingly to read the room.

"Go on." Anspaugh encouraged.

"Well, I guess I'd have to say that I'd worry if Dr. Romano was to have the responsibility of the entire staff and faculty."

Robert knew this was coming from the ER and wasn't shocked at Greene's words. He was, however, astonished that Greene had the balls to say them in the first place. One voice out of many wasn't enough to make Robert feel concerned, though.

"Well, thank you, Mark, for your candor. Kerry."

"As any of us who've been in management know it's never easy taking over another department, and I agree with Mark. There have been a few bumps in the road. But I feel that Dr. Romano has succeeded in stabilizing the situation and is now providing some genuine leadership in the Emergency Department." Kerry wasn't as stupid as Robert often liked to imagine and was instead hedging her bets. Toning down the bad in hopes of kissing ass just enough to be spared any blowback from speaking out against him.

"So, you would support him as Chief of Staff?"

"I think it's only fair that we give him all the support that we can."

Robert wanted to yell out liar, liar pants on fire. That would definitely lose him the job, though. Instead, he watched Anspaugh, who was looking back and forth between Weaver and Greene. Greene was glaring daggers at Weaver, and it was clear to everyone that he disagreed with Kerry's words.

"Well. It seems to me that you and Mark are not in agreement Kerry. I value both of your opinions and since the two of you have and the most experience with Robert as an administrator, I take your comments very seriously, yours, in particular, Mark."

Well shit. This was not how Robert envisioned this meeting going. Robert had hoped that Weaver would find out about the meeting, so last minute that she wouldn't have a chance to give her input. Instead, she and Greene show up in the nick of time, bad mouth him, and Anspaugh decides to provide them with serious consideration. Kerry even looked shocked at the turn of events.

"Robert, you stepped up for the ER when it was floundering, and that couldn't have been easy. Jumping into to manage a department that's not your own when alarm bells are going off is a hard place to be as an administrator. But to have two senior members of that department say they have concerns about your management style, and even if they have two different accounts of it, is concerning." Anspaugh gave Robert a serious look, and Robert knew that the meeting was turning away from his favor. For once, the discord between Greene and Weaver was working against him.

"Mark, to show I take your concerns seriously, I'm appointing an Associate Chief of Surgery. Someone to help smooth over the rough edges of the transition and who has more administrative experience to be applied with a more delicate hand than Robert might be capable of at the moment."

"Uhh, that's, great Donald; I think I missed the part where Robert was being made Chief of Surgery as well. Who, ah, did you have in mind to help him?" Greene was struggling to keep up with the conversation, and the confusion on his face was mirrored by the rest of the room's occupants.

"Elizabeth Corday."

Robert didn't bother to hid the look of glee on his face when Donald said Elizabeth's name. It was perfect. The rest of the room, however, looked surprised, notably Weaver. Robert particularly enjoyed the twitch her face made at Lizzy's name.

"I'm a little lost here, Donald, how does Elizabeth Corday meet that criteria?" Greene voiced what easily half the room was thinking.

"What's the matter, Dr. Greene? You certainly thought _highly enough_ of Dr. Corday to ah vote for her in the Trauma Fellowship" Robert couldn't help but get a dig in, delighted at the unexpected turn around that had been presented to him.

"Dr. Corday has been handling the majority of Surgery admin since February, allowing me to spend more time with my daughter. In addition to this, she spent a great deal of time doing admin in England while working for her father. Apparently, it's a Corday family tradition to train your replacement early on. So I do not doubt that she is more than capable of being Associate Chief of Surgery. Unless, of course, you have an issue with this, Robert?"

"Not at all. And this way, we won't lose her to Rush."

"Charles Cameron can go poach from someone else's staff. Unless there are any other concerns, I think this meeting is over. Dr. Romano will be Chief of Staff and Chief of Surgery with Dr. Corday as Associate Chief to smooth over the inevitable."

Robert was grinning like the cat that caught the canary and made no attempt to hide it. In one fell swoop, he had secured a promotion for himself, and then thanks to the grumbling man from the ER, Elizabeth had been given a promotion as well based on her own merits. After a round of congratulations and handshakes from the other department heads, Robert managed to escape the conference room. He needed to find Lizzy.

* * *

Elizabeth was going over a chart in the Surgeons lounge, trying to make sense of the wildly unexpected turn the interview with Cameron took when Robert walked in, grinning ear to ear.

"If the look on your face is anything to go by, then am I to believe you got the job?"

"No, Lizzy, _we_ got the job." Robert poured a coffee before taking the seat across from her.

"I beg your pardon?" She was confused, there was only one job, and Robert was the one up for it.

Robert took pity on her and filled her in on how the meeting went. Her expression went from one of confusion to shock the more he spoke. Elizabeth took a full minute staring at him open mouth before she could respond.

"So. You walk into a meeting for a job and walk out with jobs for both of us."

"Yes."

"And it was all Anspaugh's idea."

"Yes."

"Because Greene complained that you didn't have leadership skills."

"Yes."

Elizabeth shook her head and laughed. Her day kept getting stranger and stranger. It solved the ultimate problem though of her needing a job and wanting to continue working with Robert. The best part about it was knowing that Anspaugh had genuinely noticed and appreciated all of the hard work she had been putting in. It was a job she had been given based on nothing but her own hard work and qualifications and thus would be the most savored moment of her career yet.

Inevitably Robert got around to asking how her interview with Cameron went, and Elizabeth laughed in response. Charles Cameron was yet another fan of her fathers and had jumped at the chance to interview her. He had been visiting family in London when he was sixteen and had the opportunity to see her father operate and fell in love with surgery. Robert saw the bemused look on her face and knew he was missing something.

"Charles Cameron was with his parents, visiting his father's cousin." Still nothing. "His cousin, who's a surgeon." Nope. Her eyes were laughing at him now.

"Robert, who is my godfather?"

"A man named Malcolm?"

"Malcolm, _what_?"

"Cameron... Oh! Malcolm Cameron, the Neurosurgeon. Are you saying that?"

"Yes! Charles Cameron is my godfather's baby cousin. I don't remember much of the visit, I was so little, but I do remember Charles's father. He and my Uncle Malcolm look enough alike to be brothers, and I thought he was my godfather at first. Ran right up to him, demanding a hug, and when he asked who I was, I screamed bloody murder. I had seen _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ recently and thought the pod people had come for my godparents."

"Oh, Lizzy," he managed while laughing, "that's terrible?" She was laughing as well, and he knew he was off the hook for teasing her.

"Yeah. I don't remember meeting Charles after that; I was too busy not letting my godfather out of my sights. But I was sitting on my Grandfather's shoulders during the surgery he observed, and my grandfather took great pride in having me explain it to him. Apparently, it's hard to forget a smart-arsed five-year-old with red curly hair that can give you a basic explanation of a Cardiothoracic procedure."

"Oh don't tell me, you had your own scrubs as well."

"As a matter of fact, yes." She was ver smug. "My grandmother made me a pair for Christmas that year."

It was at that moment that the door to the lounge opened, and Anspaugh walked in.

"Robert, would you excuse us, please."

"Sure. See you later, Lizzy." He smiled at her and was gone, whistling a tune as he walked out the door.

"I guess Robert has already told you the news," Anspaugh said as he took Robert's vacant seat.

"Yes, he did. Rather giddy about it as well."

"I know that you wanted the Trauma Fellowship and that I voted against you in that. But I do agree with Robert, you are a talented surgeon, and I would hate to see your hands tied by a Trauma Fellowship run out of an ER not yet equipped to handle a dedicated Trauma Surgeon."

It was a startling confession from Anspaugh, and Elizabeth had no response. She had been laboring under the impression that for all the hard work she had put in, she hadn't been noticed by anyone capable of making it worthwhile.

"A word of advice. You will be able to shape the Surgical Department into what you'd like it to be, and through Robert, shape the ER. If Trauma Surgery is a long term goal, then work to make the ER a Level One Trauma Center worthy of its own surgical staff. And don't let your relationship with Robert prevent you from doing that."

Elizabeth recoiled back at his statement, shocked that Anspaugh knew when neither she nor Robert had said anything.

"How did?"

"I didn't until you confirmed it just now." He interrupted her. "You're not the only one that listens to Shirley. And I might have placed a rather large bet on the matter at some point."

"Oh, really?" Elizabeth tilted her head, giving Anspaugh a look. Not quite believing the now-former Chief of staff would have gotten involved in the workplace betting pools.

"You two can make an outstanding team when you work together, don't forget that."

"Thanks. We like to think so." Like so many of Elizabeth's conversations with Donald, this had taken a turn for the unexpected. "Do you think I could use the phone in your office for a bit?"

"I'm guessing you'd like to call your father." Her smile was all the confirmation he needed. "Go ahead. Send him my best; I only wish I could have followed his example sooner."

Safely ensconced in Anspaugh's office, Elizabeth took a moment to breathe and try to process her day so far. Madness. She looked at her watch and decided she could probably still catch her father at work.

A little sweet talking later, and Elizabeth gotten her father's secretary to patch her through to the OR where he was about to close up on his last surgery of the day. Concerned at first about what could be so crucial that Elizabeth would call in the middle of a procedure, Charles Corday had taken a moment to process her news before responding with delight and pride. He ignored the collective groans of his colleagues and a comment or two along the lines of "even from America she makes us look bad" before questioning her about the new job. His delight was suppressed momentarily when she informed him that Robert had made Chief of Staff and Surgery. Elizabeth had yet to inform her father that she and Robert were dating and didn't feel that over the phone while he was operating was the best time. A page to the ER finally pulled her away, and she went downstairs to answer it.

Carol was waiting for her. It wasn't a consult; it was the Spanish Inquisition. Carol wanted to be the first to congratulate her on the new job, and it was delivered with a tone that made Elizabeth weary. She crossed her fingers and hoped that this was pregnancy hormones speaking and that Carol would eventually hear her out.

Carol was cross with her, and it was a combination of not telling her if Mark really had been crossing a line then leaving her to hear it from Shirley no less, and for not telling her about all the extra work she had taken on to help Anspaugh. Elizabeth's response to the former about not wanting to add more stress to Carol's life did not go over well, and her comments that the latter seemed trivial when compared to the amount of work she had as an intern made Carol look abashed. Before their conversation could go any further, they were interrupted by general well-wishers and the quickly circulating rumor that Kerry Weaver had just been made Chief of the ER. Naturally, the rumor went about because she had given notice to Carter to find a new apartment and dropped Lucy Knight as her mentee. Elizabeth took the opportunity to hightail it out of the ER. At the same time, all hell broke loose from the latest round of gossip, and Elizabeth ensconced herself in the relative safety of the surgical floor for the remainder of the day.

* * *

The end of the day came along relatively quickly, all things considering, and Robert and Elizabeth managed to escape to their favorite bar for a round of drinks. In this case, a round of drinks was a bottle of Piper-Heidsieck, accompanied by several charcuterie boards. Neither Max nor Jo had been able to meet them on such short notice, and instead, one of Robert's med school buddies from Mercy was able to meet them. Matt Williams has been in Robert's year at mead school, and while they had picked different disciples at different hospitals for their residences, they had remained close through the years. Matt was now a well-respected Pediatric Attending, a line of medicine that Robert held in high esteem. It took a special kind of person to work with sick children day in and day out, and Matt, with his warm-hearted nature, was perfectly suited for it. There was also the added benefit on Elizabeth's part of hearing all kinds of fun stories of Robert's med school days. Including that he got the nickname "Rocket" while in his third year.

"Matt, you've got to tell me how! I've been dying to know, and this tosser here refuses to tell me."

"Wait, you don't know? With the way he's talked about you, I thought for sure you'd have heard that story by now."

Robert glared at Matt. It was still a delicate topic for him amongst his friends, just how long he had been pinning after Elizabeth, and this was the second long-term friend he had introduced her to that brought that up.

"Well, Matt, I try not to give everything away all at once; I've got to keep her interested after all."

"Rob. Listen to me _ver_ y carefully. She. Followed. You. To. Another. Country. If she's dating you after that, I'd say you'd have to work hard to fuck it up." This elicited more glaring from Robert, which Elizabeth noticed.

"Love, he's right. You've got my complete and undivided attention."

Robert couldn't control the serene loon that appeared on his face when she called him love. It was the first time she had referred to him as anything other than Dr. Romano, Rocket, or Robert. He signaled for Matt to tell the story, too busy smiling at his Lizzy.

It was towards the end of their surgery rotation their third year of med school, and their residents had decided the appropriate way to celebrate a successful rotation was to take them to a bar. With both residents having girlfriends, the girlfriends got to pick the bar. A piano bar. Several drinks in, and the group had decided that the man at the piano was mediocre at best. Robert being the one proclaiming loudly that the man was tone-deaf at best, and a five-year-old could play the piano better. So while the musician was on a break, Robert's resident made a bet with him, $200 cash if he could play and sing better than the musician hired for that night. Robert took the bet.

"She packed my bags last night pre-flight  
Zero hour nine AM  
And I'm gonna be high as a kite by then  
I miss the earth so much I miss my wife  
It's lonely out in space  
On such a timeless flight

And I think it's gonna be a long long time  
'Till touch down brings me round again to find  
I'm not the man they think I am at home  
Oh no no no I'm a rocket man  
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone"

Robert softly sang the first two parts to her, trying not to draw attention to himself, all the while delighting in the look of awe that came over Elizabeth's face as he sang. She was mesmerized by his voice, and it showed plainly for all to see.

"I played "Rocket Man", and it went over so well the bar asked me to come back on Friday nights. They called me Rocket Man at first because of that, and I eventually got them to shorten it to Rocket. It stuck." He smiled at her waiting for a response. A kiss was what he got in return.

"And when were you planning on singing for me if I hadn't weaseled it out of Matt?"

"Lizzy, that just now wasn't singing. You'll have to wait till the time is right for the real deal."

Matt cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the intimate nature the conversation was taking, and he offered up his Amex to pay the tab in an effort to no longer be the third wheel.

After finishing off the last of their drinks, Elizabeth made it back to her flat an hour or so later. A pleasant buzz had overtaken her, and she could still feel Robert's good night kiss lingering on her lips.

And what a kiss.

The man was intoxicating to her, and she often found herself fantasizing about just where she would like to feel his lips upon her. Her neck. Her shoulders. Her breasts. Perhaps in a cold shower, which was clearly what she needed at the moment. Elizabeth turned on the light, dropped her keys on the counter and looked around her flat, the blinking red light of the answering machine illuminating a corner of it. Probably family calling with well wishes, there was no way her father could have kept the news of her promotion a secret. She poured herself a glass of water and walked over to the machine and hit play.

"You have four new messages. Message recorded at 10.23 am. 'Elizabeth, I've got fantastic news! You best stock up on scotch because my holiday time came through. I'm coming to Chicago!' ". Elizabeth didn't hear anything past the first message; it was truly the icing on her cake.

Andrew was coming to Chicago.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

AN: To the guest reviewer that went back to chapter one to review and ask where this week's chapter was, my work trip got pushed up a week and all hell broke loose at home because of that. I spent most of my day in airports and running on a coffee deficit. I'm now ensconced in my hotel room with a very delicious burger and plenty of wine.

It has also been pointed out to me on several occasions now by Rocketlover, that I habitually type Mead School, instead of Med School. I find this absolutely hysterical and I think I was drinking mead when it was pointed out. I love mead and my grammar editor doesn't pick up on it. Probably thinks Mead School is a thing with how much my friends and I talk about drinking it. Let's be honest it should be. Mead School is a thing now, I'm just going to embrace it. If you see me type med school again, you'll know I've been replaced by an impostor.

Some quotes are from Season 6, Episode 2. The song at the end is "Mellow" by Elton John.

Now back to your regularly scheduled Cordano fix.

* * *

It was the monthly departmental meeting, and somehow when talking about the surgical department's clinical competence, Robert's voice went from smooth and silky to dull and droning. Elizabeth felt like she was back at Uni, sitting in the back of a lecture hall with Andrew talking about their plans for the week instead of paying attention. Probably bad form considering she was now Associate Chief and that it was her boyfriend doing the droning.

To make matters worse, Peter encouraged her lack of attention by asking her to cover for him that morning. Peter had sought her out the day after her promotion and offered to buy her lunch that day. Elizabeth was happy for the opportunity to make peace with him after the weeks of going at each other's throats over the Trauma Fellowship. He had been shocked to hear Anspaugh promoted her, and she filled him in on the extra work she had taken on in the past few months. The paperwork, the scheduling, and the occasional end of day conversation that dealt with juggling a surgical career and being an involved father to a little girl. Elizabeth's experience of growing up in a surgical family had always been something Peter appreciated as he struggled to find a balance with Reese. It wasn't hard for him to imagine Anspaugh handing off his work to someone competent like Elizabeth, who would sympathize with his need to spend time with family.

Robert chose that moment to call them out. And by them, Peter, by name at least. Whilst Robert was busy drawing attention to Peter; he had been sending Elizabeth a rather pointed look. She needed to pay attention and knew it. To remind her of this, Robert gleefully explained to the surgical department her role as Associate Chief. He dumped everything on her that he didn't want to deal with himself. Elizabeth knew at least three surgeons would be in her office before lunch to complain about their schedule and who got to be in charge of the music in the OR. Lovely.

* * *

"Lizzy, twenty minutes. It took you twenty minutes to come and see me. I'm shocked. I thought it'd be five, ten tops." Robert was grumpy with her, the newly appointed Associate Chief, and she zoned put during his first departmental meeting, to talk to Benton no less.

"What?"

"What no 'sorry for zoning out, I didn't mean to ignore you completely' ?"

"I wasn't trying to ignore you."

"Walk with me. I have to hit the head." Robert stood up and left his office, leaving Elizabeth with no choice but to follow as she rolled her eyes at his comment.

"How eloquent of you, Robert, you really know how to keep the mystery and romance alive."

"Well, with kind of attention you give a man, it's no wonder that I'm bereft of more delicate words."

"Honestly, Robert, you'd doodle rockets on your charts when Anspaugh was giving those meetings."

"Well, Lizzy, this is different. And seeing as you're Associate Chief, I feel that you should give department meeting your full attention."

"You mean you think I shouldn't sit next to Peter Benton."

They stopped short of the men's room, and Robert turned to face her.

"Well, Elizabeth, those are _your_ words, not mine. But perhaps in the future, you shouldn't sit next to someone you find so distracting." he turned and walked through the bathroom door, still peeved that his girlfriend and Associate Chief would pay so little attention to him in the meeting.

Robert had been irritated at best to find out that Benton had managed to get back on Elizabeth's good side with one well-placed apology. He knew she hadn't initiated the conversation during the meeting, but couldn't help being annoyed that she hadn't shut Benton down when he did.

Elizabeth ducked into the elevator the first chance she got. Dating Robert hadn't stopped them from butting heads on occasion, but it had taught her that he often just needed a little time and an acknowledgment of his feeling on her part. It also didn't make things easier when they had disagreements about work. Being caught paying attention to her ex-boyfriend, during her current boyfriend's first department meeting was not the best way to start their day off. The elevator dinged, and Elizabeth stepped out into the ER, determined to find something to do to keep her busy whilst Robert cooled off enough to speak in a more civilized manner.

She wandered the halls, hoping for a consult or trauma and stuck her nose into one of the trauma rooms. Mark Greene was there, back from his mother's funeral, and looked up at her.

"Hey, Elizabeth."

She hadn't spoken to him since before her promotion. Enough time had passed since she had engaged Shirley's gossip services that Elizabeth knew Mark had to have heard the rumors.

"I heard a rumor about you."

"Really? Which one?" Elizabeth observed him as he got up to throw out his gloves, carefully moving around her to give her space.

"That I might have made you...uncomfortable. I never meant to. You just always seemed stressed and overworked. I thought you'd enjoy getting out and having fun. I didn't realize just how overworked you really were. We're you really doing Anspaugh's paperwork all that time?"

"Since February. It started as a favor here and there to help get him home at a decent hour, and the next thing I know, I'm going home with a stack of paperwork every week. I was in his daughter's shoes once, so I didn't mind."

"That's right, surgeon's daughter."

She let the silence fill the room and could tell it made him uncomfortable. He wasn't going to say it though, what made her uncomfortable, and Elizabeth wanted to clear the air. She was staying at County, and Mark was Carol's friend; at some point, she needed to not tiptoe around him.

"You don't understand what it's like, being a third-generation surgeon in a country that doesn't believe women belong in the OR unless they are a nurse. I had to work harder than all of my peers in London because I'm a woman and then had to double that effort because my father was Chief of Surgery and my Grandfather Chief of Staff when I started my surgical career. Coming to America was a godsend. It gave me a fighting chance. I still had to work hard, but there was never once the speculation that I only made it to the OR because of my family. But the ambitious and cutthroat part of me that I needed to survive in London still very much exists, and can't stand the idea of getting a vote for a job because the person voting was biased. I don't want any job offered to me where even one vote was cast in that manner. It offends me, and it's an insult to everything I've worked for by starting over."

Mark had been avoiding her gaze the entire time she spoke, shifting around from foot to foot. When he finally met her eyes, he found himself face to face with a woman he had not seen before. Gone was the ambitious but charming Elizabeth Corday he had known, and in her place was the cutthroat daughter of Isabelle Corday, determined to rise up above all the men who had ever told her she had no place in surgery, men who belittled her intellect and refused to see more than a pretty face. She got her work ethic from her mother, after all. Mark took a step back and sighed before nodding his head in understanding. There was no room for any other response.

"I have to get back to work," Elizabeth said. "There's probably five surgeons lined up outside my office wanting scheduling requesting and music privileges for the OR. I'll see you around."

* * *

He had his favorite scrub cap on, the one with the colorful rockets swirling around. Wearing it into surgery always lifted his mood, and today would be no different for the most part. He was still cross with Elizabeth, even though he knew that Peter had been the one talking during the meeting. Elizabeth had been far too happy to be back on friendly terms with him to silence him, though, and it left a sour taste in his mouth as he walked down the hall of the surgical floor. The bitter taste turned sour as Robert saw Elizabeth and Benton wheeling a gurney down the hall towards OR One, a patient prepped for surgery. Perhaps he had found a way to take out his morning's frustration. Be the Rocket.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think _you're_ going?" Robert pointed at Benton, making him stop in his tracks as the rest of the team moved towards OR one without him, Elizabeth hanging off to the side to see what the issue was.

"Shirley cleared OR One."

"Yeah, well, thanks for buffing him up, Peter, but Lizzy can take it from here." Elizabeth took a step towards him at the mention of her name, confused as to where this was going.

"Yeah, but he's a trauma patient." Robert was going to savor the next part as he listened to Benton, try, and explain.

"Indeed, he is, and this Trauma Fellowship of yours is through the _ER_ , correct?" Robert barely let Benton answer before cutting him off, "so, that's an _OR_. That's for surgeons." Robert tuned out Benton's response. He didn't care that he had been operating for the past few weeks as a trauma fellow; Robert just wanted to take the easy dig at Benton for the lack of respect that morning.

"As Chief of Staff, I have to be concerned with credentials." Robert was savoring the look of shock on Benton's face. He knew this little hindrance was only temporary, but he was enjoying it none the less. " _You_ chose this, not me. Elizabeth, I leave it up to you. Under no circumstances is that man to go into that operating room. Call security if you have to and enjoy your first solo surgery." Robert started to leave at his last words, but not before patting Elizabeth on the back a little lower than he probably should have considering they were at work. Her shock at the solo surgery comment made it all the more better, and he walked off his surgical coat swishing as he left Elizabeth to deal with her pal Benton.

Robert avoided her for the rest of the day. They had a fundraiser to go to that evening, and he didn't want to push Elizabeth to the point where she was actually peeved with him. they needed to present a united from to help get County some well-needed grant money, and being charming to strangers was Lizzy's forte, not his.

Dressed in his tux at the end of the day, he was ready to leave with no Lizzy insight. Her office was locked, and when pressed, Shirley said she believed her to be downstairs in the ER. Great. Robert was sure she was elbow deep in some kind of trauma, not being able to resist. Thankful that the elevator was empty, he made faces while mimicking Shirley's comment of 'she's in the ER.'

Be The Rocket.

He stepped out of the elevator, a confidence in his step that was only somewhat faked. It was working. A woman he didn't know stopped to watch him, and his confident gait turned into a strut as he looked for Eliza-

She wasn't stuck in a trauma, and neither was she taking a consult. She was standing at admin talking to Carol, already dressed for the evening in a long black dress. Her hair was down, and Robert couldn't see her face, but what he could see made him stop and stare. The back of her dress was cut low, and two long sashes of something silky hung from her shoulders, almost as if they were a cape. What's more, he wasn't the only one staring at her. The only downside he could note as he walked up behind her was her choice in shoes. As delectable as her legs looked in them, they left Robert having to look up at his girlfriend for the evening. A power move or not he really didn't care.

"Hey, Elizabeth, I hear you laid up today in the OR." She turned to face him, and he lost the upper hand. If the back of her dress was stunning than the front was even more so. A beautiful biased cut silk gown rendered him speechless, and Elizabeth smirked at him.

"Laid up?" He took a moment to respond, and he could tell by the small smile on her face that she was enjoying his reaction.

"Yeah. Golf term- played it safe. Lived to cut another day. That's not a criticism; we all get more conservative when we're in the driver's seat. Welcome to the big leagues."

"Listen, Robert, about Peter"

"Peter, Peter, Peter. Don't you ever get tired of that subject?"

"Yes. But he-"

"I'm just messing with him."

"So you'll let him operate?"

"Mmm, for you, Lizzy, anything. But only on trauma, not elective cases, and no general surgery. Now can we go already? I hired a car for the evening, and they're waiting."

Robert offered his arm, and when she took it and leaned into to him, he smiled, not caring who saw. They swanned out of the ER, ready to take on the world as a team.

* * *

It was such a nice dream. She was all silk and velvety beneath him, hands roaming over his body as he enveloped her with his touch. He tasted every inch of her before making her scream his name in ecstasy, and Robert couldn't get enough. His Lizzy. He refused to open his eyes as Gretel nudged him gently on his left; Robert knew she just wanted a cuddle and could wait another five minutes as he savored the dream.

His left. He didn't sleep on the left side of his bed, though- Elizabeth. Curled up in the middle of his bed, she lay wrapped around his left side. Nuzzling into him as she slept, it was her soft curls he felt as he woke, mistaking them for Gretel's early morning wake-ups. He glanced over to his right briefly and spotted the massive hound still asleep in her bed. So it wasn't a dream. The silkiness of his dream was Lizzy pressed around him, one arm flung across his chest and a leg entwined with his. Robert placed a soft kiss upon her forehead as the memories from the previous night came rushing back. The flirting at the fundraiser. His hand on her bare back. Asking her where he could drop her off at and Elizabeth's response of 'with you.' He had never waited for a woman longer, and yet Robert knew he never wanted another woman again. They had fit perfectly together that night, and hearing Lizzy call him 'my love' when she came had nearly made him come out of his skin. His Lizzy. Her Love.

Robert Romano was the happiest man, and nothing could spoil that. Not even the wet nose of Gretel in his ear. Maybe her tongue, though.

A very determined Gretel knew he was awake and was demanding his attention, oblivious to the fact that Robert had no desire to get out of bed. He tried to turn away from the massive hound and, in the process, disturbed Lizzy.

"Hey."

"Good morning, beautiful."

Still half asleep, a smile appeared on her face that Robert would know anywhere. It was the one reserved _just for him_. Robert pulled her closer and kissed her, his lips linger on hers as she snuggled in closer. Gretel huffed audibly at them, not used to Robert ignoring her in the mornings.

"I think she wants her breakfast, Robert." He rolled back over and looked at his alarm, nine am. Gretel usually ate around eight, and he was thankful she gave him the extra hour this morning. Robert typically took her for a morning run on Saturday's but the idea of leaving Lizzy behind this morning, even for an hour, seemed unbearable.

"How about I get up and get Gretel her breakfast and then make us something while you doze a little longer? We can have a lazy morning and then take her to the d - o - g p - a - r - k later this afternoon." peppered her face with soft kisses after every letter, enjoying the serene look on her face as she closed her eyes.

"In a long gown?"

"We'll swing by your place so you can change. Maybe get another set of clothes, and I can make you dinner tonight?" Elizabeth pulled him in for a kiss, and that was all the response he needed.

Almost an hour later, Robert found himself in the kitchen, working on brunch. Gretel had been fed, and while she was staring longingly towards the front hall, she had resigned herself to curl up close to Robert in the kitchen. There could be dropped food for her to snack on after all.

Coffee consumed, Robert had been too focused on the stove to notice that Lizzy had come downstairs. It was only Gretel stirring to greet her that made him turn around. Elizabeth had once again made herself comfortable in a pair of silk pajama pants and a 'Rocket' scrub top. She sank down to the floor and spent a few minutes there, loving on the Bouvier, who was thrilled with the attention. Gretel's Saturday morning routine had been disrupted, but having affection from a second person was going a long way to making it up to her.

"The Doctor."

"What?" Robert had no idea what Elizabeth was talking about.

"I named my corgi The Doctor. I wanted a Great Pyrenees, and my parents, rightly so, didn't want to get a dog that large when I was away from school half the year. So they got me a corgi. Small, intelligent, and approved of by The Queen. I loved Doctor Who, so I named him The Doctor. Andrew and I would take him on walks through the neighborhood, pretending we're were time travelers. My mum even knit an absurdly long scarf when Tom Baker took over."

"Lizzy, that's-"

"Don't laugh! I was seven! Doctor Who was the only thing we could all agree on to watch at school."

He was laughing, though. He knew Elizabeth's father treated his daughter like a princess, and the thought of Charles Corday getting his little princess a corgi like Queen Elizabeth was just too much.

"Elizabeth, we're you named after The Queen by any chance?" She glared at him before refocusing her attention on Gretel.

" _No_. Both my grandmothers had Elizabeth as a middle name, and my parents liked the acknowledgment it gave them." another glare, daring him to continue laughing.

"It's a beautiful name, honey." He received _his_ smile for that as Elizabeth stood up and walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning in for a kiss that he happily gave. The tender moment didn't last long, as they were interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

"What." an annoyed Robert answered.

"Baby Brother! It's been too long; I was starting to think, oh, I don't know that you were avoiding me."

"Oh, God, not you!"

"Is that any way to greet your favorite sister?"

"I don't think you get to be the favorite when I have no other options to pick from Gwen." Robert held a finger to his lips, trying to silence Elizabeth, who was threatening to break out in laughter.

"Rob, you wound me deeply."

"Look, what do you want? I'm in the middle of making breakfast." Wrong choice of words. Gwen went silent for a moment, a choice no doubt for dramatic effect.

"Rob, do you have somebody there? That's the only reason, you'd be starting your Saturday this late." Robert paused too long, his silence all his sister needed as information

"You do! Is it Elizabeth!? Ahhhh!"

Robert hung up the phone right as Gwen started screaming, ' _Robert got laid_ ' to his brother-in-law, and Elizabeth was outright laughing now.

The phone rang again. Robert was tempted to disconnect it, knowing it was more than likely Gwen calling back. Instead, he let the machine pick up, only to decide that it was worse.

"YES, BABY BROTHER! Finally. I'd been so worried you'd be a lonely workaholic who went his entire life without getting any. Anyways, I got sidetracked being happy for you. The reason I called was to say we booked tickets to come to Chicago for Thanksgiving. You can host this year since Mom informed me you're the boss now. Love you, Rob, and remember to use protection!"

"I'm going to kill her." Robert looked over to where Elizabeth had been standing only to find her on the floor laughing, with Gretelnlicking her face.

"Gwen and Andrew-" Elizabeth managed between laughs, "can never meet."

The rest of the morning was uneventful. They had breakfast and then loaded up the Jag to head to Elizabeth's flat. Robert waited on the car with Gretel whilst Elizabeth went up to get changed and was delighted when she returned with a small overnight bag. Gretel was excited to see a shiny new tube of tennis balls in her hand.

The tennis balls made for a successful afternoon, Gretel slobbered over every one of them. They stayed for hours, taking turns throwing balls for Gretel to chase or sitting on a bench watching her play with the other dogs. By the time they left the park, all three were hungry, and Gretel had taken to nosing Robert's ear as he drove as her way to complaining to management. Mercifully, it was a short drive home, or Robert feared she might have taken to eating the leather interior. Once in the house, Elizabeth opened a bottle of wine whilst Robert fed the massive hound, who was doing a sort of jumping dance around him as he made her meal. The message was clear; work faster, dad. Lizzy passed him a glass of red wine with the most pressing issue over, and he started to pull out the makings of their own dinner, which he had not yet planned. Having Lizzy stay one night, let alone two was not something he had anticipated this weekend. A quick cross of the fingers as he rummaged in the fridge, and Robert had an idea for a meal, Steak au Poivre. Easy enough to make, and he had stopped off at his favorite butcher Thursday evening with a hankering for something juicy.

Normally working with Elizabeth was like operating a well-oiled machine in the OR; Robert could not say the same for the kitchen. Not used to sharing that space, he eventually shooed her out of the room with the advice to keep Gretel company until dinner was ready and not to drink all the red wine. He had been far too focused on making a nice dinner to realize that he had yet to give Lizzy a tour of the house and essentially sent her off to explore his home unsupervised. Robert was about to flambé the cognac when he heard the distant sounds of the piano coming from the den. He paused to listen, and while he could tell she wasn't half bad, he did not know what she was playing. Robert finished off the sauce and then sought her out, leaving the steak to rest, nervous about just what she had gotten into other than the piano.

The den was a small room towards the back of the house and stuffed full between all of his books and the piano. A couch ran along the wall under the window and his desk was in a corner with the piano taking the center place of the room, where Elizabeth was currently seated.

"What are you playing?" He stood leaning against the doorway, watching her.

"I'm trying to play "Sunshine on Leith," although very poorly."

"I'm not familiar with it."

"Andrew and I got very, very, intoxicated listening to it my last night in London. I think I sobered up in time to go through immigration."

She was homesick, and with her godbrother coming to visit, it was only natural. Sitting down on the bench next to her, Robert brushed a stray curl away from her face when she looked at him.

"Lizzy, he's not going to try to drag you back to London, is he? I'd be compelled to fight him over that."

"Don't worry; I don't want to go back. I've got everything I need right here." She leaned in to kiss him, giving Robert his smile again as she did so. Elizabeth pulled back ever so slightly and said the words that Robert had been dying to hear from her, "I love you, Robert."

Sometime later, Robert managed to remember that he had made dinner for the two of them. The steaks had gone cold in his distraction and he couldn't care less. He didn't bother to attempt to reheat them, the sauce and cut of meat being delightful enough, and the red wine bountiful. They returned to the den after dinner, where Elizabeth was determined to have him play for her. In the past, if Robert had had a woman over, the den was strictly an out of bounds area, and thus he had never played for one in his home before. It was an intimate moment sitting on the bench with her, and he felt as if he was sharing part of his soul.

As he played the opening notes, he focused on the keys, unable to turn to look at Elizabeth least he falter under her gaze. It had been years since he had sung for anyone new in his life.

"Cool grass blowing up the pass

Don't you know I'm feeling mellow

Oh I love your Roman nose, the way you curl your toes baby

Make me feel so mellow

It's the same old feeling I get when you're stealing

Back into my bed again

With the curtains closed and the window froze

By the rhythm of the rain

Oo you make me mellow, oh you make me mellow

Rocking smooth and slow

Mellow's the feeling that we get

Watching the coal fire glow

Oh you make me mellow, oh I make you mellow

Wrecking the sheets real fine

Heaven knows what you sent me Lord

But God this is a mellow time. "

Robert didn't make it through the song before Elizabeth was kissing him. "Heaven knows what you sent me Lord, but God this is a mellow time."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Brought to you by, I'm back on location! To the guest reviewer who got antsy last week, I might be shifting to Sunday postings now that I'm on location with work. If you have an issue, please file a formal complaint with my union. Also brought to you by weekend mimosas and group facetime. We cover three time zones, three cities, and two countries.

Some quotes are taken from Season 4, Episode 11, and Season 6, episodes 3 and 4. The opening quote is from the Starkid musical "Firebringer." It's the only part I know, and it makes me laugh on the days I can't be bothered to be productive. The Emergency Drawer in Elizabeth's desk is absolutely mine, taken from my desk at work.

'I don't really wanna do the work today. I don't really wanna do the work today. I don't really wanna do the work today. I don't wanna do the work today.

Uh oh.'

That's how she felt and nothing could change that. No coffee. No hearty breakfast. No exciting surgery. Nothing. Elizabeth knew she would have to manage, though, and get through the next few days. Andrew was arriving this week, and Elizabeth Corday could barely contain her excitement. Too bad it was about to make her late to meet Robert.

Her car was at the mechanics again, and she was catching a ride to work with Robert. The leased Mustang had been fun for her first year in Chicago, but she had never thought past the initial idea of only being here a year when she signed for it. At some point around March, it had started giving her issues, and Elizabeth had been far too caught up in surviving her internship to trade it in. Robert was now teasing her about it, though; it was never a major mechanical issue that sent it to the shop, but she wasn't familiar enough with American cars to do the maintenance, and she didn't have the time. Andrew and her father had been teasing her as well. 'Is your car still in the shop Elizabeth? Still driving an American car Elizabeth?' She had finally called the leasing company and told them she was turning it in soon. Part of Andrew's visit would be car shopping, and she knew he wanted her to pick something British and fast. Sitting in Robert's Jag as it sped through the streets of Chicago, she couldn't help but miss driving a proper car. Something where driving was an actual experience that warranted a weekend drive through the countryside.

Elizabeth had been so lost in her thought that she hadn't realized that Robert was speaking to her, something about a reporter from the Tribune showing up and blowing Robert's horn. A double entendre that she admitted was done to see if she was paying attention.

"You know, Robert, wouldn't you be better at doing that?"

"Well, look at you, look at me, who would you rather spend an hour with?"

"I don't know Robert if it's an hour blowing your horn..."

It was too easy; Robert was distracted enough by her remark that he almost ran the red light.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we were talking about sex."

Robert laughed and revved the engine, focusing on nothing but the road for the last few blocks to County.

County General ER lived up to its reputation of being a chaotic place to work with gunshot victims coming in as if there were revolving doors. This time the shooter wanted to finish the job and followed the victim to the ER, leading to a shoot out with a rent a cop. It was over and done with by the time the rumors made their way up to Surgery, and Robert was practically foaming out the mouth to get out of the OR. Unfortunately, the Gossip known as Shirley was in the OR with him and unable to collect information on what really happened. To find out if Elizabeth was alright.

Having Shirley in the OR was a downside for more than one reason. Robert knew she was smirking behind her surgical mask as she watched his agitation grow. Elizabeth had warned him to be careful around Shirley, and now he was giving her enough insight to top the gossip mill to Christmas. The head OR Nurse even had the gall to comment on being 'sure Dr. Corday was fine.' Robert made a note to have Lizzy put her on nights for a week for it. Hours had passed before he was able to get out of the OR and find her.

Standing in the observation room for OR 2, Robert watched as Elizabeth operated on her mastectomy patient. He had been a nervous wreck until he saw for himself that she was ok and got gotten more than a few looks from staff as he tore down the halls looking for her. A moment's hesitation in her usually precise actions, and she looked up from her procedure and made eye contact with him. It was enough for Robert to feel reassured and go back to work himself. He just needed to find Shirley and blackmail her into staying quiet. More importantly, Robert needed to prepare for the arrival of one Andrew Cameron. Things like putting the hospital on red alert and buying up all the scotch in Chicago. The prospect of meeting Elizabeth's godbrother was almost as terrifying as thinking she had been shot. It was time to buy a bottle or three of Bunnahabhain and hope for the best.

Several days had passed, and Robert was nervous. The article for the Tribune was coming out today, and Andrew's plane was landing this morning. Robert sat down in the kitchen with his coffee, determined to enjoy the article before what was sure to be a day of torture from one of Elizabeth's favorite people.

The coffee cup fell from his hands, and Robert let out a stream of expletives that would make a sailor blush and shamed Gretel from the room.

"What the fuck, Lizzy!"

The headline read 'Prescription for Danger, are You Safe at County General.'

He found her in the ER, of course.

"I certainly never meant to convey any deficiency at County, and how the hell could I anticipate a shoot-out, and not everything in the account was negative."

Robert was pissed and consequently was speeding through the ER's halls, making Elizabeth keep up with him as she tried to explain. Robert had forgotten entirely about the report after the shoot out, and this was clearly his punishment.

"You're right. I particularly enjoyed the description of Dr. Carter clamping off his first aortic rupture in an eight-year-old."

"Yeah, which as the account clearly states, was successful."

He was at the elevators now and impatient. Robert's home phone had started ringing that morning, and he knew his office phone wouldn't stop until this mess was cleaned up. Tired of waiting for the elevator, he was halfway up the stairs when Elizabeth commented about gladly giving up the front page. Robert stopped in his tracks, turning to give her a nasty look as he walked back towards her. He was dragging her with him now up the stairs as he carefully explained her job.

"Elizabeth, when you were given this job, it was specifically to look out for me and my needs. To smooth over my issues, not create your own. Right now, I'm questioning if you can do that. Am I wrong to have supported Donald in giving you this role?"

If Elizabeth had hackles, they would be raised. Or maybe her hair would just become frizzier than usual. Robert wasn't sure and didn't want to find out.

"No, Robert, you're not mistaken to have supported him in giving me my job."

Her tone of voice suggested he was about to get uninvited to dinner that night. Or perhaps she'd just feed him to the Scotsman. Sure Cameron grew up in London, but Robert knew they went to Edinburgh eve summer growing up, and the Scottish ate weird things. Haggis came to mind. Cameron was thankfully a surgeon and not a psychiatrist, though.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that."

Continuing up the remaining stairs, Robert fleeting told Elizabeth to clean up Anspaugh's schedule. He had more important things to do like fix her mess.

It was supposed to be a good day, and all Elizabeth had managed to do was piss everyone off. First, her boyfriend with the article, and then she was forced to pull rank on Peter and kick him out of a general surgery procedure. Robert should be thrilled with that, whilst she knew Anspaugh had given her a disappointed look when she had done it. Now she had to speak to Donald about his schedule, and she wasn't sure how she would manage it.

"I do need to talk to you, Donald, and I'm sorry to even mention it."

"Don't apologize; someone has to do the devil's work. No offense."

"Well, I'm relieved you see it that way."

"It's not easy managing colleagues."

"I'm beginning to realize that."

"When I was doing my rotten, much of which you've taken on, I always tried I get to the core of the issue. Ask yourself this, do you believe that Peter Benton is a good surgeon?"

Elizabeth left the scrub room in a daze. The conversation with Anspaugh had not gone as planned. Sidetracked by the topic of Peter, she hadn't managed to bring up the real issue at hand. Just another thing for Robert to be peeved with her over. She stepped out into the main hall and noticed that the energy on the surgical floor had changed. Ablaze with whispers and looks towards her, Elizabeth was caught off guard until she heard someone say her name.

"There's Dr. Corday." It was a nurse at the desk pointing towards her.

Andrew was standing at the front desk with a bag in hand. He dropped it upon seeing her, and they ran towards each other simultaneously. Meeting halfway, Andrew swept her up into his arms and spun her around, holding onto her for dear life. Face buried into his neck, her voice cracked as she spoke.

"I've missed you so much."

"As have I, Elizabeth."

They stayed locked in a long-overdue hug, and Elizabeth took in the unmistakable scent of her godbrother. A combination of cigars and surgical soap that she always associated with the men in her family.

"I best put you down before the nurses start to gossip. Do they have betting pools here? Because I think my presence might have started one."

With Andrew being a good head taller than her, Elizabeth had been lifted off the ground for the hug, and now back on her own feet, she got a good look at him. In full kit, Andrew was dressed to make an impression. His tweed jacket's earth tone colors allowed his kilt's bold red to stand out, cutting a striking figure down to his boots. It was no wonder the nurses had been staring.

"Honestly, Andrew, must you torment the nurses here by showing up in a kilt? They won't know what to do with you."

"Well, considering five women have given me their number since making it off the plane, I'd say they know exactly what to do with me."

Elizabeth laughed, unable to comment on the allure of a man in a kilt, having snogged several of them over the years.

"Does that mean you've gotten rid of the cow?"

"Christ, Elizabeth, she's not a cow. And at least one of us has a love life." he saw the secretive look on her face and pounced. "Oh. So you do have a boyfriend. I thought we talked about not leaving import things out of your emails home. You'll have to tell me all about him over dinner."

"You can meet him at dinner. That's if he isn't too cross with me to come." Elizabeth took off at that, not wanting Andrew to regain his footing in the conversation. "I'll take you to my office, and you can drop your things. A lovely thing having an office, a luxury I know you lack."

Her tiny office could barely hold herself and all of her paperwork, much less two people and a suitcase. After a little maneuvering, Andrew sat himself behind her desk and started going through everything. He was particularly interested in the drawer labeled 'open in case of an emergency.' It held a giant bag of M & M's and a bottle of Laphroaig, much to his delight. Elizabeth shut the door and crossed her fingers he wouldn't burn the place down whilst she was gone, needing to find Robert and discuss Anspaugh as well as determine if they were still on for dinner.

Elizabeth found herself outside of Robert's office. The door was closed, and she was about to reach for it when the man himself opened it and stepped out, taking off down the hallway yet again, making her follow him to keep up.

"Lizzy, did you talk to Anspaugh?"

"Yes"

"And how'd he take it?"

"He didn't. I didn't discuss it with him."

"What you didn't get around to it?"

"I hope that when you backed me for this position, our relationship, and my surgical skills aside, you did it because you trust my judgment."

"Naturally."

"Now, if I'm going to protect your interests, then I have to tell you it's in you're best interests to keep Donald Anspaugh happy. Not only is he a great asset to the surgical staff and to you, but he's also a special consideration. Now, if this interferes with your tennis lessons in anyway, then I'm sorry-"

"I don't play tennis."

"Whatever, the point is if you want to push Donald out-"

"Woah. Woah. Woah. Woah. Who said anything about pushing Donald out?"

"Well, I assumed-"

"You assumed? Assumed instead of just asking me? Lizzy. When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me."

"What?"

"Never mind. Look, I just wanted Fridays off, I thought that you could talk to Donald about the OR schedule, but if you're not comfortable doing that, I understand."

"Oh. Yeah, that's alright."

"In the future, try and remember that it's Kerry and not Donald that I like to torture. Do you really think that I- Never mind."

What was she thinking? Robert didn't even want to know. Walking away from Elizabeth to answer his page left a bitter taste in his mouth. Working as Chief of Surgery with his girlfriend seemed like a blessing when it first happened, and now Robert realized it was going to be more challenging than he thought. They had always made a good team in the OR, and he believed that would translate with relative ease to their new admin jobs. Instead, it had just made a mess of things.

There was still meeting Andrew to look forward too, who had apparently arrived if the gossip was to be believed. Nurses were giggling everywhere about 'the Man' that was waiting in Dr. Corday's office. At least the gossip had quenched the whispers going around about how Robert sat outside the OR, giving Elizabeth puppy dog eyes after the shoot out.

The rest of the afternoon dragged on for Robert as he went around trying to put out fires. Stuck in meetings and phone calls all day, he hadn't stepped foot into an OR once. To make matters worse, the vending machines were out of M&M's, and he had taken it out on his secretary Brenda, who had fled to god only knows where to hide. Probably a bar if she was smart. And now he was being watched. Robert refused to look up from his work to acknowledge whoever was standing in the doorway and instead decided to give them a verbal lashing.

"Whoever the hell you are, perhaps you should get out; I've got enough on my plate as is and don't need more piled on by whatever mess you've probably made."

A snort was the response given, and Robert glanced up, prepared to glare at the audacity of the visitor. Standing in the doorway was Andrew Cameron, looking every bit intimidating. Standing at 6 feet tall with thick curly hair in a dark auburn shade and dressed in a kilt and tweet jacket. And he was eating a damn bag of M&M's. Cameron just smirked back at him, popping a handful of Robert's favorite sweet into his mouth.

"You know Elizabeth did warn me that today was absolute shit, part of it her own making albeit unintentional. The woman tried to lock me in her office but didn't trust me not to muck up all her paperwork. So I've been wandering about whilst she's been in surgery, stirring up the local gossip, flirting with the nurses."

Andrew moved out of the doorway, electing to take a seat in front of Robert's desk, still eating the M&M's.

"And you thought coming here and harassing me was the next best thing to harassing Lizzy?"

Andrew's mouth fell open a little, and his hand missed his face, dropping the precious sweets on the floor.

"Lizzy? You call her Lizzy?"

"Yes."

"To her face?"

"Yes."

"And she's not hit you?"

"No. Why would she hit me?" It was Robert's turn for his mouth to be agape.

"She hates nicknames."

"I've called her Lizzy since London, and she's never once corrected me."

"Well. That explains quite a bit. No wonder my Uncle Charles doesn't like you if you've gotten away with calling her that. She must like you immensely; god knows she's hit me enough over calling her something other than Elizabeth."

Robert leaned back in his chair, feeling more than a little smug at this discovery. As frustrating as the day had been for him, it made him smile a little, knowing that he was the only one to get away with the use of the name. Even when she had corrected Dale the Weasel in surgery, she hadn't corrected him when he used it right after. His Lizzy indeed.

"These are yours." Andrew passed the bag of M&M's to Robert. "Elizabeth had them in a drawer labeled 'Open in case of Emergency.' There was a bottle of whisky in there as well, but I figured that was for late nights with paperwork and not late afternoons. She warned me off eating them, but I'm feeling somewhat peckish and couldn't help myself. Figured it would be alright if I split them with you."

Whisky and M&M were in her emergency drawer. He needed an emergency drawer, but apparently, Lizzy was looking out for him. Part of Robert's frustration melted away as he snacked on his favorite candy, appreciating that it was a jumbo bag she had bought.

"And who exactly showed you where my office was?"

"Oh no one, I just went in the opposite direction of your screaming secretary. You might want to buy her some chocolate mate."

"It's been a hell of a day."

"Yes, I read the paper. I'm thinking of getting it framed for Elizabeth's office, but I'm afraid she might chunk it at me. Perhaps that's an after-dinner thing. Speaking of, when are the two of you off? A man cannot survive on sweets alone, and I'm not fool enough to drink the woman's whisky without asking."

"She is part camel when it comes to single malt."

"I'm part what?"

They had been too caught up eaten chocolate and swapping stories like teenaged girls to notice that Elizabeth was standing in the doorway. No longer in scrubs, she was dressed in street clothes and ready to leave.

"Dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth. We did not see you standing there with your ferocious glare."

"Cut the bullshit, Andrew. Clearly, the two of you have met and broken into my desk."

"It was an emergency Lizzy; the vending machines were out of M&M's."

"Robert, they were just stocked last week. Ughh. Look, we need to leave in ten minutes to make our dinner reservation, is that going to be an issue?"

"No, Lizzy, let me put away my work, and we can leave. I'll meet you at the car."

"You two drive-in together?"

"I don't have my car anymore; I turned it in this week. You and I are going car shopping Saturday morning. "

"My prayers have been answered."

They managed to make it to the restaurant in one piece, the drive having reminded Robert of the more playful and easy-going moments with his own sister. Andrew decided that he and Robert would get on based purely on the fact that Robert drove a Jag, and Robert could appreciate a man with good taste in cars. It had been an eye-opening dinner, seeing Elizabeth at ease around her brother. And that's what he essentially was. Side by side, they could easily pass as siblings, and Robert was startled to find out that they had been born a week apart. Sent off to the same school, they grew up more like twins than family friends, which showed in their interactions.

Robert was also startled to find that Elizabeth hadn't mentioned that she was seeing someone before today. Andrew was by no means shocked at the news, Elizabeth had been rather vague about how she spent her summer, and most of her emails had mentioned Robert in one way or another. Robert was please with that, though. The knowledge that even if she wasn't ready to put their relationship in writing to her family, the fact that she gave so much away about his involvement in her life made his heart soar. She loved him, and it was apparent to the man that was for all intents and purposes her brother.

As weekend plans were discussed, Robert proposed meeting Max and Jo for a late lunch on Saturday. Andrew was thrilled at the idea of meeting their friends and instantly agreed, whereas Elizabeth looked slightly hesitant.

"What's wrong with the plan 'Lizabeth?"

"Well, I'd like to add someone to lunch if there is no objection."

"That's not a problem, who are you thinking, Carol?" Robert asked.

"No. Charles Cameron."

"What? There's a Cameron in Chicago? My father has never mentioned this."

"His baby cousin. Iain, Charles's father, is Uncle Malcolm's cousin. The one who moved to America. He visited at some point when we were little. I know they kept up with each other sporadically, but his son was so impressed by our fathers on a trip to London that he became a surgeon. I actually interviewed with him for a job. He knew me right away, the hair and the name gave me away, but I didn't remember him, just Iain. "

"What's his specialty?"

"Cardiothoracic."

"Oh no." Andrew groaned.

"Oh yes. Uncle Malcolm will never live that down, that's now two Cameron surgeons to pick the wrong specialty."

"Christ, help us all. Happy to see my cousin then if it's not an imposition Robert."

Two weeks ago, it would have been. But two weeks ago, Elizabeth hadn't told him that she loved him. Two weeks ago, she hadn't insisted on him being there for the first meal she had with her godbrother in years.

"Invite him; he's an intelligent man and won't bring down the conversation. I say we meet at our normal place, and if he can make it, great."

After dinner drinks revolved around settling plans for Saturday. Robert would arrange inviting Max and Jo, and Andrew made plans to ambush Charles Cameron on Friday while Elizabeth was at work. Robert naturally approved of the idea to show up while Charles was more than likely in surgery and critique his every move. Being the godson of a cardiothoracic surgeon, Andrew was familiar enough with the specialty to be judgmental on a surgeon's skill set in that area.

Robert eventually dropped Andrew and Elizabeth off at her flat, feeling bereft of her company for the evening. Robert had been making a habit of convincing Elizabeth to stay at his house as often as possible and quickly came to realize how much his house didn't feel like a home when she wasn't there. Friday at work would be equally lonesome, with Elizabeth having half the day off to spend with Andrew. As important as this visit was to Elizabeth, all Robert wanted was to have her back in his house, a place he was quickly considering to be their home. Even Gretel was pouting at the lack of extra affection she had become used to with Elizabeth.

Friday had eventually turned into Saturday, something that Robert was immensely thankful for. Max and Jo had agreed to meet them for lunch, as had Charles Cameron. It was a beautiful day, and Jo insisted on being seated outside even though October had brought a chill to the air. While waiting for Elizabeth and Andrew to arrive, Robert noticed another pair of familiar faces had been seated at the next table. Greene and Hathaway. Robert knew that Lizzy and Carol were on better terms now, but he had no idea how much she had told the ER nurse. Either way, the cat would be out of the bag before the meal was over. For now, the ER team had decided to politely ignore Robert's existence, something he was just fine with. Robert was busy glaring holes into the back of Greene's head when Max distracted him.

"That is a proper Jag."

The men at the table watched as a sleek black Jaguar pulled up to the valet stand. Robert would know that particular car anywhere, a classic Jag. A Mark X. It was the model his own car was descended from, and Robert couldn't help but be envious of whoever owned it.

"Elizabeth?" Carol hadn't been so distracted by the car that she missed who was getting out of it. Elizabeth looked startled to see Carol, and Andrew looked back and forth between the two tables, gleefully sensing impending drama. Andrew wanted to cause trouble.

"Carol, hi." Elizabeth looked like a deer in headlights, unsure what to say or do.

"Come sit with us and explain where you got that car."

"Forget the car Elizabeth and tell me where you got the man and if he has a brother." Jo had gotten impatient, and upon realizing who Carol was, decided to stir the pot.

"I'm not his brother, but I am his cousin." The American Cameron interjected.

"Sorry, Charlie, your hair isn't that nice."

"You must be Jo, and he can't help that he was born to the unattractive side of the clan."

Andrew walked over to the table and ruffled Charles's hair before sitting down. Carol and Mark looked on in confusion upon realizing that not only did Elizabeth know everyone at the other table, but that they were her friends, and she was there to see them.

"The real question is Elizabeth, where did you get the Jag and can I borrow it?" Max was gleeful enough over the car in question that he had missed his girlfriend hitting on another man.

"Yeah, honey, where'd you find that car, and do they have more?"

It was Robert's turn to smirk as he took great pleasure in watching the blood drain away from Mark Greene's face. Robert made sure to stand up as Elizabeth approached the table and kissed her before pulling out her chair. Even the American Cameron made a face at that, which did not pass by Andrew's notice.

"Charlie, she's charming, but looks can be deceiving. She's terrifying as all hell. Besides, she's well past the age of snogging my cousins at weddings."

"Hey! I was sixteen, and they were wearing kilts, what's a girl supposed to do."

"Cheers to that!" Jo interjected.

"Besides, I'm not terrifying."

"Elizabeth, my godmother, your mother, is one of the most brilliant and terrifying women I know. You are cut from the same cloth."

Cameron number two was nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah, I remember meeting her over dinner. She drank a gin martini and smoked a cigar all through the meal and talked about physics."

"Um, Elizabeth" Elizabeth turned to look at Carol, who was still in a state of shock. "I'm a little confused here. Do I have pregnancy brain, or did you just kiss Romano?"

The table full of surgeons burst out laughing, with an indignant 'Hey!' coming from Robert. Elizabeth leaned in to kiss him, hoping to appease his bruised ego, something he happily accepted.

"Carol, I'm sorry we haven't caught up properly. We really need to, but it's just not going to be today. Why don't we get brunch next Saturday, and I'll fill you in properly?"

"Yeah. Yeah, ok. I think you definitely owe me Elevenses over this."

"It's a deal."

Elizabeth let out a sigh, not realizing she had been holding her breath whilst talking to her friend. A bottle of Chardonnay had been brought out for the table, and someone poured her a glass as she pursued the menu. The boisterous group spent the next few hours at the restaurant, enjoying the company of old friends and new. Cameron One and Cameron Two, as Robert was thinking of them, were enjoying catching up on family news as their fathers had had a falling out at some point and stopped speaking. Both were fascinated by how similar their lives had been, to the point where they had picked the same profession. They earned a snide comment from Lizzy about the male surgeon's ego that half the table took offense to. By time lunch had drawn to a close, an onlooker would have never known that the group hadn't been friends for years. Max and Robert had invited Charles to join them on a boys club drink night, with Jo rolling her eyes in the background whilst mustering 'not another surgeon.' Eventually, the bill was paid for, and the group moved towards valet to collect their cars. The men insisted Elizabeth get her car first, acting like Christmas had come early when the sleek Jag was pulled around.

She had found the car by dumb luck, flipping through an auto trader magazine that week. The previous owner had reached a point where the car was no longer practical but was having trouble selling it for sentimental reasons. The idea of selling it to the feisty British surgeon appealed to him, and the test drive was full of stories from Elizabeth's teenage years, learning to drive from her grandfather, who had been an absolute petrol head. The car had been a little more than Elizabeth had initially wanted to spend, and a good portion in cash no less, but the nostalgia it brought back had ultimately won out.

Robert watched her drive off to spend the rest of the day with Andrew. Sunday was his last full day in Chicago, and somehow Robert had managed to convince them to attend Mass with him and his mother, and he was nervous as hell.

"Robert stop fidgeting; I'm sure they will be here soon enough. We didn't need to be this early."

"I can't help it. I want you to like her; this is serious for me."

They were standing on the step to the church waiting on Elizabeth and Andrew to arrive, and Robert's mother had started to regret allowing him to drive today. She could have arrived at their usual time and not been standing outside of the church for 15 minutes, waiting for Elizabeth to arrive on time.

"Robert. You've introduced me to several girlfriends over the years, but never have you invited one to Mass. It's not hard to make an educated guess that you're serious based on that. But do stop fidgeting, least she sees you from the street and drive off thinking you're a lunatic."

He turned to glare at his mother when he finally saw Elizabeth's car pull up. Andrew and Elizabeth made a striking pair as they stepped out of the car; Andrew had yet again donned his kilt, and Elizabeth wore a long one in the same tartan. They looked like brother and sister, and for a moment, Robert missed Gwen. Robert met them at the base of the steps, greeting Elizabeth with a kiss.

"Lizzy, this is my mother, Cara Romano. Ma, this is Elizabeth Corday." Andrew cleared his throat from behind Robert. "Right and, Andrew Cameron."

It was Elizabeth's turn to be nervous as Robert's mother took a look at her. Cara Romano was a petite woman, standing several inches shorter than Elizabeth, but her presence filled up a space greater than Andrew. Her once copper curls, now streaked with white, were pulled back into a bun, and Elizabeth wondered if Robert, too, had a head full of curls at one point.

"It's lovely to finally meet you, Elizabeth. And I thank you for bringing a handsome man in a kilt with you; its been too long since I've seen one of those."

The ice had been broken, and laughter replaced nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, although I'm sorry to say Andrew flies home tomorrow."

"We can't all have the ambitious nature of the Corday family, and be in the position to set our own schedule. But I'm delighted to find a woman of discerning tastes at Mass; my mother will be so thrilled for once."

Cara laughed and proposed they head in and take their seats, her eyes never leaving her son, who had wrapped his arm around Elizabeth's waist. Andrew noticed where she was looking and quietly said, "I've never seen her happier."

The service seemingly dragged on for Robert, who had barely slept the night before and then awoken at the crack of dawn. He barely paid attention to the service, far too focused on the feeling of Elizabeth's hand in his as she sat next to him. When they were finally dismissed, Cara suggested that they go to lunch and that perhaps Robert would be able to concentrate on that better than the sermon.

Lunch was at one of Cara's favorite places and was often filled with churchgoers on a Sunday afternoon. The Romanos had been eating there on Sundays since Robert was a boy, and at some point, the table by the window became theirs. It had been a few years since it had been filled regularly, with Gwen living on the east coast and Robert's father having passed away several years before. Robert was enjoying the gregarious side of his mother, something that had dwindled in the absence of his father. Cara was holding court, like the matriarch she was, fast becoming friends with Elizabeth and said as much when Elizabeth excused herself from the table.

"I like her, Robert. She seems good for you."

"I think the real question isn't whether or not she's good for you." Andrew was smirking, and Robert recognized it as a Lizzy mischief smirk. Having raised two children of her own, Cara knew Andrew was about to poke Robert with the proverbial stick and interjected on his behalf.

"And what is the question? Surely it's not if Robert is good for her; she seems smitten enough with him." There was a challenge in her voice, and Andrew picked up the gauntlet.

"Smitten? You think that's smitten? Smitten Elizabeth doesn't go around meeting a bloke's mum at Mass. No. The real question, Robert, is are you going to marry my god sister?"

That caught both Romanos off guard. The color drained from Robert's face, and he choked on his wine, something Andrew had timed for. Cara, on the other hand, seemed pleased with Andrew's directness and perked up at the question. When Robert didn't answer, his mother got impatient with him.

"Well, Robert, the man asked you a question. One, I'm very interested in hearing the answer to."

Robert looked back and forth between his mother and Andrew, both looking far too smug at him being caught off guard. He glanced over Andrew's shoulder to see if Elizabeth was headed back yet, and upon determining he still had a few minutes turned to his mother.

"Ma, you once told me if I ever met a woman worthy, I could have your engagement ring. I'm asking you for it now."

Cara paused a moment before nodding. "There's a ring box at home. I'll give it to you then."

Elizabeth chose that moment to return and noticed the atmosphere had changed in her absence. She sat down and sipped on her wine, looking from person to person trying to determine what had changed. When no one was forthcoming with her, she finally asked what had she missed.

"Don't worry about it, Lizzy, I'll tell you later."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16:

AN: Some quotes come from Season 6, Episodes 6 and 7.

Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing!

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"How long have they been together?"

"Apparently months."

"Anspaugh would have never appointed her as Associate Chief is he knew they were dating."

"Is that what you think? According to Shirley, he won $500 in that betting pool. Placed the bet a year ago."

"No!"

"Mhm."

"What do you think, they just got so pissed off at each other that they went at it in the on-call room one day?"

"They work in surgery, not the ER."

"What is she doing with a man like him anyway? I'm shocked his ego could handle dating a woman with the ability to stand up to him."

"Something tells me that's _exactly_ what he likes. Someone who is more than capable of keeping up with him."

"I don't know how this is a surprise to anyone. They've been leaving together _every Friday_ since February to do all their head of department paperwork. That's not even counting all the times they've just gone out for drinks."

"Wait, gone, where to do paperwork?"

"No idea, but they've planned what to order for takeout in the surgeons' lounge plenty of times."

"How long are we giving them before she breaks it off?"

"I'm not betting against the Chief of Staff on that one."

"Good point."

The gossip mill had been cranking out theories, stories, and money since the day shift started Monday morning. It was stirred up again around eight when Robert and Elizabeth pulled into their parking spots at County, the two black Jags making a statement parked side by side. Robert couldn't help but strut as he walked into the hospital that morning with Elizabeth by his side. The looks followed them as they walked down the hall to the main elevator, where safely ensconced inside, they burst out laughing.

"Do you think it's always going to be like this?"

"Lizzy, they work in the ER and have nothing better to do while waiting on a trauma to come in."

It took a week for the gossip to slowly die down, with new betting pools being established as the dust settled. No one was brave enough to say anything negative to their faces, but the gossip mill could not be stopped, and inevitably the comments made their way back to Robert and Elizabeth. Few if any of the negative comments came from the surgical department, at least from the OR Nurses who had enough sense to know that Robert would gleefully put them all on night shift for a month.

Elizabeth had adopted a damage control mode with the ER by offering to take Carol to brunch the following Saturday. She hoped to bring Carol into the fold and have her use the gossip mill for good instead of evil. This was typically a job for Shirley, but her price was too high for something that would eventually settle on its own, and it would be better coming from the ER than Surgery.

"So."

"So."

Seated at their favorite cafe, Elizabeth and Carol, we're having a stand-off of sorts. It had been so long since they had spent time together that neither knew where to start.

"How ah, how's the pregnancy coming along?"

"Oh, you know. Outgrowing my maternity clothes."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So."

"So."

"You and Romano. A little heads up on that would have been nice. Even Shirley knows more than me."

"Shirley works in the OR with us every day. No one in the ER ever really sees us together."

"He's an ass Elizabeth."

Elizabeth made a non-committal noise and thought about how she wanted to proceed. Carol clearly wasn't going to go for the ' _if you just get I know him_ ' line. She felt out of the loop and pushed her own friend as a romantic candidate for Elizabeth. The idea that Elizabeth would have the time to meet and get to know someone else had never entered Carol's mind.

"You've caught me, Carol. I went looking for Peter in the men's locker room one day and found Robert _shirtless_ instead. I just couldn't help myself, and I jumped him right there." Elizabeth was sniggering and couldn't keep a straight face. Neither could Carol, for that matter.

"Elizabeth, be serious."

"I am serious. Sort of. But it wasn't the locker room; _I jumped him in the elevator and snogged him_." she said it so matter of factly that it left Carol in no doubt that Elizabeth was telling the truth and was rather proud of herself.

" _The elevator_?" More shock.

"Yes. God, I should have done that ages ago. No man has any right to be that good at kissing."

"Romano?"

" _No, Carol_ , I'm talking about Edson." she sighed and shook her head, wondering if the pregnancy hormones had rendered her friend unintelligent. "Yes, Robert. You know I've heard so many jokes about surgeons' hands over the years, but never did I think I'd date a man where that was...so...accurate."

"So, this is about sex?"

"Ha, ha no. Don't get me wrong, it's wonderful, but we didn't have sex for several months when we started dating. We… Carol, we wanted it to be so much more than that. I love him."

"Why am I pregnant when very clearly I need a drink for this." Carol grabbed the waiter as he walked by and glared at him. "Waiter, I need all the bacon you have. It's an emergency. Elizabeth, start from the beginning."

Unfortunately for Elizabeth, the only part of her lengthy conversation with Carol that made its way to the gossip mill was that she grabbed Robert and snogged him in an elevator. The being friends for several months before dating part got left out in favor of details about their sex life, something Elizabeth had been purposefully vague on for that very reason.

* * *

As October rolled into November, fresh gossip was brought to County General in the form of a gas explosion. For once, the ringing in the ears of the staff was not due to gossip. Elizabeth had been far too absorbed in her paperwork to notice the explosion, though. That's how Elizabeth found herself when Peter stuck his head in her office, up to her ears in admin, and too swamped to talk. He sat down at her desk anyways, content to talk whilst she worked.

"Slumming amongst we simple surgical folk Dr. Benton?" Robert had appeared in her doorway as if by magic. At this point, Elizabeth wondered if he had planted GPS into Peter's stethoscope, the way he always knew if Peter was around her. Or maybe he just paid off the nursing staff to spy for him.

"We were just discussing a patient." Elizabeth adopted her best soothing tone, knowing that Peter would always be a sore spot with Robert. Robert responded in kind with sarcasm, and Peter just rolled his eyes in response, used to Robert's personality at this point.

Robert wanted her to cover a 6 am surgery for him whilst he dealt with an insurance meeting over the ER. It was the first Elizabeth had heard of the explosion, and upon asking if anyone got hurt, Robert managed to keep the glee out of his voice when he said Mark got his hair singed. She was more concerned about Carol, and a rather pointed look later, Robert was confirming her friend was okay. He finally took a turn to leave after mucking about in her paperwork when he paused in the door.

"Oh, oh, ah, Lizzy." her look clearly said what now and yet Robert pressed on. "How much would you pay for my sperm?"

"Uh, I beg your pardon." affronted, she leaned back in her chair. Elizabeth had no idea where he was going with this, and in front of Peter no less.

"Oh, is that sexual harassment, oh. Oh my. No, I'm uh, being recruited by the Marshal Hillburg Sperm Bank. It's ah; its donors include Olympic athletes and Nobel Prize winners. It's an elite gene pool."

A rather ugly expression settled on her face as she processed what he said. Elizabeth had no idea where this idea of being a sperm donor came from, and there was a petty part of her that didn't like it. She decided that if he wanted to play this game in front of Peter, she would give as good as she got.

"Well, Robert, that sounds very interesting, but I won't be paying for your sperm. When I want it, you'll happily give it to me for free. That is unless you're _too spent_ from giving it all away to your elite sperm bank." she couldn't help but think 'point Corday' as she watched his reaction. If you looked up flabbergasted in the dictionary, you'd find a picture of his face in that exact moment. "Oh, I'm sorry, was that sexual harassment? If you don't have anything else, Peter was here to take to me about something work-related."

Between Peter and Robert's faces, she didn't know where to look. All the points to Corday. Peter was blushing, and Robert's mouth had fallen open. He couldn't manage complete words before turning and leaving her office. Laughing, Elizabeth finally looked back to Peter, and he was shaking his head at her.

"What? He came in here talking about sperm banks acting as if I wouldn't respond in kind to that."

"You know Elizabeth; I'm kind of glad I'm not in the OR with the two of you right now. Part of me is shocked after how the end of your fellowship went, and another part of me remembers how you talked about him when you first got here. How excited you were to have moved to another country to work with him."

"Most people have forgotten that. We worked together for almost a year in London, granted under my father's watchful eye." they both laughed, with Peter vividly remembering her father's outright displeasure at seeing Romano.

"Does your father know?"

"Andrew snitched on me. Not in so many words, but my father guess based on what he didn't say."

"How did that go?"

"Not well." it was a big sigh. Her father had called her after a brandy or three and had not been pleased. Reminding him that once upon a time, he had been impressed enough by Robert to hire him only incensed him further. It had ended up being her mother of all people that calmed him down. At some point, Andrew had gone to his godmother for help. Upon being filled in, Isabelle had taken great joy in pointing out all the ways that Charles and Robert were alike, down to their love of intelligent and ambitious redheads. She wanted to know how Charles could dislike a man with such high standards to appreciate their daughter for her mind and not just her looks.

"You seem happy, so I'm going to keep my mouth shut. Just be careful. I'd hate to see you get hurt."

"Thank you."

The rest of Elizabeth's day was gloriously uneventful. Most of it was spent in her office, with a very short lunch with Carol, who was plotting to have a pregnant woman arrested for drug possession of all things. The rest of her afternoon was long, but thankfully held none of the drama of Robert's morning. She left work before him and had dinner well on its way by the time he arrived home. Then she got the third degree.

"Lizzy, what did you mean earlier?"

"About what?"

"About the sperm bank."

"Wait, you were _serious_?"

"Yes. They contacted me, and I'm thinking about donating."

"Why?" The ugly part of her was taking control again. It had been gnawing at her brain all day, the idea of Robert being a sperm donor. A father. She didn't like it.

"Why not. It's a reputable sperm bank and a good cause."

He was fixing a drink as decidedly ignoring her. Elizabeth didn't like that.

"And my input on this factors in how?"

That got Robert's attention, and he finally turned to look at her.

"Why would it?"

"I'm your girlfriend, and you're talking about fathering children with, with-"

"Girlfriend is the keyword there, Lizzy. My sperm, not yours."

" _No, it's not_." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Elizabeth had never given any real thought to being a mother before, but when faced with the fact that Robert could father children without her, well, it made her feel jealous. Angry even. Her mind was racing as she realized that Robert was not the only jealous and possessive person in the relationship. That she didn't want him fathering children unless they were hers.

"I'm pretty sure it's my sperm unless I slept through an important part of mead school."

"I. I don't want you to."

"Don't want me to what?" Elizabeth refused to look at him.

"I don't want you to donate...your sperm."

"Lizzy, are you jealous?" too long of a pause. "You _are_ jealous."

"I think it's quite crass to ask me what I'd pay for your sperm and never ask if I'd want it in the first place."

"And do you? Do you _want to have my children_?" the conversation had upset her more than she had thought possible. Refusing to look at Robert, Elizabeth tried to process her feelings and could only come to one conclusion.

"Yes."

Terrified to look at him, she kept her back turned and could feel his presence as he walked up behind her. Robert wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into her neck.

"I'm glad to hear that, Elizabeth. You're the only woman I'd want children with."

No more was said on that topic that evening.

* * *

Thanksgiving was almost upon them, and Robert felt like pulling his hair out. Gwen had called five times in three days to talk about their plans and irritate him in general. She was very skilled in the latter. Somehow Gwen had convinced him that the best thing for their visit was for her family to stay at his house when there was a perfectly good hotel or even their mother's house not far away.

To make matters worse, Elizabeth and Cameron Number Two had lunch recently, and she discovered that Charles Cameron had invited his parents to Chicago for Christmas. In turn, they were so thrilled about their son reconnecting with family that they called up Elizabeth's godparents and decided to bury the hatchet. Elizabeth never knew why there had been a falling out, but enough time had passed for all parties involved, either forget or just plain not care anymore. So now the London Camerons we're coming for Christmas. Which meant Charles Corday was most definitely coming for Christmas. Robert was not pleased. However, Elizabeth was, and so Robert knew he would have to grin and bear it for her sake.

It was going to be a long day for Elizabeth. A multi-car pileup required an on-site surgeon; Peter could not go, so Elizabeth geared up and took the call. She hadn't been on site since her paramedic ride along her first year in Chicago and was excited to go.

Her patient changed that quickly. Dean Rollings. Car jacket, abductor, and maybe a murderer. The detective had gotten to Elizabeth, and she allowed herself to ignore the oath she took, to do no harm, to help those in need. She threatened to withhold treatment. It would kill her patient. Rollings caved, and she was thankful that she didn't have to decide it was all a bluff.

In the middle of scrubbing in with Peter to deal with the Rollings surgery, Robert walked in. Rollings had raped his carjacking victim.

"I also got a little visit from an investigator in the Public Defenders office. It seems some bleeding heart is claiming that you coerced Rollings into telling you where he left her."

Elizabeth looked everywhere but at Robert. He was using his quiet voice, the one from past experience she knew to be the most dangerous. Loud and brash Robert was a show. Quiet and controlled, Robert was what you really needed to look out for.

"Did you coerce your patient into giving you information _in exchange for his life_?" Each word was spoken slowly, and with emphasis, the weight of the question placed squarely upon her shoulders.

Poor naïve Peter tried to stand up for her, and she shot him down.

"I think it's fair to say I pressured Mr. Rollings."

"Well, Lizzy, you never fail to impress me; I didn't think you had it in you to cross that line. But you may want to reflect on if that's how you really want to characterize what happened today. Because, unfortunately, in this country, when a confession is coerced, it's usually thrown out."

Robert didn't wait for her response before leaving the scrub room. The silence from Peter was deafening. As was the silence from her conscience.

* * *

The takeout had been delivered, and Elizabeth poured their wine for dinner. It was a tense evening with no indication of letting up. Today was the second time that she and Robert had crossed swords, so to speak, in their new jobs, and both incidents had made for a challenging transition into their home life at the end of the day. She wasn't sure if Robert was holding her actions against her, but she felt as if she was walking on eggshells. It wasn't feasible long term.

"Robert, we need to talk." He stiffened at her words, and whilst she regretted the phrasing, Elizabeth couldn't deny the seriousness they projected.

"Oh. What about."

"You know what."

"No, I don't, Elizabeth."

"Fine. Act that way. It won't change the fact that there's a problem that we need to talk about."

"The only problem I see is that in you violated the Hippocratic Oath by withholding treatment on a patient." His voice was raised, and she brought hers up to match.

"And we found his victim because of it."

"Yes. And now it's in question on if he can be prosecuted for it. Your reputation, the hospital's reputation is in question because of it."

"Is that what you care about!? The _hospital's reputation_?"

"No, Elizabeth, and I resent the implication, but it's the second time in a short period that _you've_ painted County in a poor light."

"That's beside the point-"

"No, Elizabeth, it's not."

His tone was final, and she could plainly hear it in his voice. No room for discussion, and it hurt.

"Robert. We can't. We can't live like this. Pretending things didn't happen at work that won't follow us home. It doesn't make for a long term relationship."

He acted as if she had slapped him, and maybe she had in some way. But if it made him take note of how serious she was, then so be it.

"Well. If you feel that way, you know where the door is." The quiet voice was back.

"That's not what I want, and you know it."

"Then what is it you want, Elizabeth. Tell me. I'm your boss, something we have to deal with."

"Yes, you are. And I'm trying to get you to see that we have to deal with it. We can't just go around acting as if our jobs will never affect our home life. Robert, I think. I think we're going to need a couples therapist if we're going to make this last."

"Therapy? Because you fucked up at your job?!"

"No! Therapy so we can talk about our jobs and navigate those issues smoothly! I don't want to take them home at the end of the day like we're doing now; we won't last!"

"I don't need therapy to tell me you fucked up."

"No, you just need therapy to talk to me about it in a healthy, enough manner that I won't run off and leave you!" That got his attention. Robert turned to face her, and there was nothing but turmoil present. "Robert, I watched my parents' marriage crumble because they couldn't communicate worth a damn. Both brilliant and respected in their fields, intellectual equals that encouraged the ambition of one another. And it failed when they couldn't communicate what support they needed from each other. The kicker is they still love each other; they just can't see how to make it work. Too little, too late. I don't want that for us."

She fell silent, electing to watch him as he processed what she had said. He was so rigid that she feared he would crumble beneath her gaze. Elizabeth moved towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Robert. I'm not saying there is something wrong and we need to see someone full time to fix it. But I am saying, given our personalities, there will come a day where we will _absolutely_ need help to guide us through it. And I don't want to scramble to find someone we both agree is impartial. Think of it as a referee; every good sport has them to help navigate the rules; only ours would be to navigate work boundaries."

"Elizabeth. How much of a deal-breaker is this for you?" Robert was refusing to look at her, his voice barely above a whisper.

"In the short term? Not so much. But long term, Robert, I can't imagine we won't butt heads enough to not need help. Maybe it's not a therapist, but we will need a way to talk about it and sort things out. We need that in place before the argument arises. I don't know how this can work without that."

It was a big ask, and she knew it. In all her years of experience with Robert, she knew him to be a very private man. The idea that he would happily tell a stranger about his personal life and let them sit judgment upon him was the antithesis of who he was. Elizabeth knew she couldn't just sit back and hope that they never had a severe quarrel. She was also sure that she didn't want to be punished at home for something that happened at work. Bearing witness to the breakdown of her parents' marriage had been painful. There were late-night arguments when they thought she was asleep, the silent treatment they would give each other for days, the long hours at work to avoid each other, and then the inevitable day came when her mother moved out.

She knew firsthand that a partnership between two people as stubborn and pig-headed as her and Robert would need work, and in the past, Robert's way of dealing with his displeasure towards her had lacked real communication and focused more on punishing her. Sacking her via letter while he was at a conference in Costa Rica came to mind. Elizabeth's own deviousness of going behind his back and lying wouldn't help things in the long run either, not when she knew he could hold a grudge.

"Elizabeth." His hand came up to cup her face, and his voice was strained as he spoke. A great sigh escaped him, and he touched his forehead to hers. "Let me make some discreet phone calls. I'm not going within five miles of County for this. We'll interview some people and find someone we can agree on,-" Elizabeth interrupted him with a kiss, overjoyed that he didn't outright refuse. "If you think that this will help us navigate big picture issues with work, I'll do it for you. But don't expect me to go weekly just to talk about how my day went or how stressful a meeting was."

"That's all I'm asking for. I don't want to take work problems home with us and hash it out here where we should be feeling happy and secure with each other." Pulling him closer, Elizabeth buried her head into the crook of his neck. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, knowing he was willing to put in the effort.

"You had it pretty rough, didn't you? Watching your parents." A nod into his neck was all she could manage. They stayed like that for a while before Elizabeth finally spoke again.

"They sent me away. The Summer, they finalized the divorce. The Camerons took off work for a month and took me up to Edinburgh."

Very slowly, she told Robert about The Summer. Coming home to just her father, who seemed to be a broken shell of a man. Her mother's new flat that felt more like a hotel. Isabelle trying to explain in vain that sometimes loving someone wasn't enough to make things work. Then came the sneaking out at night, with neither place feeling like home. Elizabeth would climb the trellis in the back of the Camerons' home, where Andrew had his window open for her and then sneaking back out before the sun came up. It was a week of that before they overslept, and her father found she was missing. Frantic calls to Isabelle, asking if she was there, and then the panic of her mother upon hearing their daughter was gone. Malcolm had been at work already when the phone rang there, and the first thing Helena did was rush to wake Andrew in hopes that he knew where Elizabeth was. She found them curled up on the window seat in his room, with Elizabeth wrapped securely in her godbrother's arms. When Andrew and Elizabeth finally woke that morning, the door was opened, and their parents were downstairs waiting on them. Helena took them to Scotland that night, and Malcolm followed by the end of the week. When they finally returned to London a month later, the ink was dry on the divorce papers, and Elizabeth's life had been irrevocably changed.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**AN:** A snowstorm meant that I only worked a half-day yesterday and could finish this early. Cheers to Rocketlover for distracting me as I tried to edit this. Enjoy and thanks for reviewing!

Edit/Note: I reference a Gi in this chapter which is short for karategi, which is what is worn in a dojo.

What is a ten letter word for murdering your sister? Sororicide.

That's how Robert felt the week of Thanksgiving. Overbooked and overstressed, he was not looking forward to the arrival of his older sister. His brother-in-law and niece were more than welcome, but not Gwen. Not keep calling just to irritate him, Gwen. Gwen, who was threatening to bring embarrassing pictures to show Lizzy.

The Allen family would arrive from New York on Wednesday, and while the house was ready, Robert was not. Elizabeth had decided that it would be a full enough house without her staying there, and she had no desire to get in the way of Robert catching up with his family. He disagreed with that, but when she started to seem more amused at his desire to not be left alone with his sister, Robert began to think Lizzy shouldn't be left alone with Gwen. They had already established that Gwen and Andrew should never be in the same room alone, and he and Lizzy were cut from the same cloth. A Lizzy free house might work out in Robert's favor, after all. That just left Monday and Tuesday night with her, and even then, that wasn't going according to plan.

Robert had followed through with his promise to get recommendations for couples counseling. The one that came with the highest recommendation took the phone call very seriously—as in, come into the office Tuesday night, seriously. Robert didn't initially believe that they needed to rush over that quickly, with it being the week of Thanksgiving, but the psychologist felt differently. Dr. Whittaker asked a few straightforward questions to present a logic that Robert couldn't disagree with. Was there an argument or fight that prompted the phone call? Yes. Do you feel there was effective communication about the issue? No. Is the cause of the argument settled, or is it something you're still dealing with? Something we're still dealing with. Does it have the potential to cause more extensive problems? Yes. Then come in on Tuesday.

That's how they found themselves sitting in a psychologist's office at eight o'clock at night on a Tuesday. Neither had any idea how to start the conversation.

"So, the two of you work together."

"Yes." they reasoned in unison.

"How long have you worked together?"

Both made stalling noises as they tried to recount how long it was. Three-ish years was their general consensus, roughly one year in London and then two and some change years in America. It was the same answer to the follow-up question of how long have you known each other. More questions followed. Things like where were you working when you met and what was that job like? How did things change when you came to America and stopped working for Mr. Corday? Were there ups and downs in the first year in America together? How did you resolve those issues?

This list went on and on, with Dr. Whittaker keeping the questions simple, never asking deeper follow-up questions. There were no questions about the transition from just colleagues to colleagues who were dating.

"So, it seems at least where work is concerned, the two of you have always had relatively poor communication skills. Elizabeth, you go behind his back the first chance you get when you don't like something. Robert, instead of explaining what your issue is to the surgeon you brought to America, you punish her rather punitively instead. And then it starts a cycle of he's an ass, and I don't like working with him; that turns into why am I working with a surgeon who doesn't care to work with me, and you both end up poking each other with scalpels until significant damage is done. Have I missed anything?"

"Ummm."

"Errr"

"Elizabeth, why didn't you bring up your concerns about the Beaumont case with Robert?"

"I, um, " caught out, Elizabeth wasn't sure how to start that conversation. "I suppose I wasn't aware I could." Robert's head snapped towards her, a mixture of shock and hurt displayed on his face. "I had never - it wasn't like. Look, the surgical world of England is far different than in the States. The only surgeons I had to talk to about my concerns were my grandfather, father, godfather, and godbrother. My grandfather passed many years ago, and my godbrother is my peer and not a potential mentor. And while my father and godfather are both excellent surgeons who take on students, it's different talking to people who are predisposed to always be in your corner. Most of the surgeons I worked with in London were reluctant to work with me at best, and it certainly was discouraged for me to bring my concerns to them. It would have been something for them to use against me. I'd never been encouraged to go up to a surgeon that wasn't family and say, 'I'm concerned that I've just put a young woman into a coma because I couldn't reign in my blind ambition for challenging surgery.' And then there were complications, and I wanted to fix it the only way I knew how which was surgery. It was a procedure that wouldn't have been hard to get the NHS to cover in London, and I didn't think it would cause that much drama to arrange. Call it Catholic guilt if you like, but I felt as if I put her in a coma, and it was my job to fix the results of it."

A hand reached out and intertwined itself in hers. Robert. Robert, who looked like a kicked puppy upon realizing that she didn't think she could go to him with a problem.

Whittaker latched onto that and pushed her deeper on her surgical training. It was hard for Elizabeth to describe how much the men she worked with wanted her to fail and how littler her father felt he could intervene, lest they accuse outright favoritism. While she knew Robert had plainly admired her surgical skills, she had never worked with a surgeon who cared past the question of did she perform a technically correct procedure. Robert had no idea things had been that terrible for her and just assumed there was at least one surgeon she bought her concerns to, and thus thought she would do the same with him in America. The irony of his recent statement of when you ASSume was not lost on him. For Elizabeth, the kicker was she felt Robert was more cross over the surgeon she contacted than going behind his back.

"Yeah, well, you contacted Kotlowitz; what was I supposed to think."

"I don't know Robert; it's not as if you gave me a list of whom I was supposed to hate on-sight when I moved here."

Whittaker jumped on that, asking what Elizabeth had never gathered the courage to ask. "Why don't you like Kotlowitz?"

Robert's glare was not enough to dissuade the man, and he pressed on. "It's an important question since it's linked to the first incident where the two of you were against each other."

A long silence followed, and Elizabeth felt Robert's grip on her hand tighten. For a moment, Elizabeth thought he wouldn't answer.

"We worked at the same hospital, I was a resident, and he was a fellow. There were only a few years difference between us, and we got along for the most part. That is until he met my long-term girlfriend and slept with her. In my bed. I walked in on them. So yeah, I don't fucking like Kotlowitz."

Elizabeth wanted to die of mortification, to sink into her chair and be swallowed whole, but there was nowhere for her to go. She knew there was something that made Robert dislike the surgeon, but never had she imagined this. It was her turn to squeeze his hand in acknowledgment.

Whittaker continued to press Robert on the topic, why didn't he tell Elizabeth anything even if it was just there were irreconcilable personal issues. His response of 'she didn't come to me in the first place' brought up more problems. It was a catch 22 all around. So many little issues had turned into significant issues for them because of that case and how they handled it. The lack of communication. They spent the next quarter of an hour talking about the remainder of Elizabeth's first year in Chicago with Whittaker asking them what they thought the issue there were, and in hindsight, how could they have fixed those problems. 'We could have talked about it' wasn't an acceptable answer. Robert and Elizabeth were being forced to use their past workplace quarrels to determine what sort of communication worked best for them individually and as a team. Elizabeth needed the confirmation of his support, having received very little of it in London, and Robert needed I know he had her respect when he made a decision.

They had been through an emotionally draining hour rehashing their past and had an hour remaining to discuss their present-day issues. Elizabeth had been shocked that Robert hadn't backed her up with how she handled Dean Rollings, that she had gotten the party line 'you've put the hospital in a position.'

"See! You're not respecting or even wanting to listen to what I have to say. You just want to have it your own way, and you never think about the consequences. What am I supposed to do when a lawyer comes to me saying you threatened to withhold treatment and the board of directors for the hospital gets wind of that? I can't look out for you if you won't even consider that there are consequences to your actions. The board will question not just if you're the right person for the job, but if I am as well. All they will see are two liabilities, Elizabeth. You for causing the problems and then me for being the Chief of Staff with an employee for a girlfriend that I can't seem to get respect from. "

Rant completed, Robert got quiet and looked away from Elizabeth. This was not what he had in mind when he agreed to couples counseling, and felt that it would create more problems than they already had. So wrapped up in his emotions, Robert almost missed Whittaker asking if he felt better for saying that aloud. Robert didn't want to admit that it did feel good and gave a non-committal shrug instead and realized that at some point, he had let go of Elizabeth's hand. His own pride wouldn't allow him to pick it back up.

He felt her before he saw her. Elizabeth slid over on the couch to the corner Robert had claimed as his. One arm came up to drape over the back of the couch with her hand gently stroking the back of his neck, and the other arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

"You're right, of course. I've. . . often done things without thinking of the consequences. And I've unfortunately done that a fair amount to you and clearly hurt you in the process." Her chin came to rest on his shoulder, and Robert finally turned his head to look at her. "I need to think about how things will impact us, and not just fulfill my desire to do as I please. I've managed to put you in a bad way at work with this."

"Lizzy, I want nothing more than to do a long exploratory surgery without anesthesia on Rollings for what he's done. But we have to be careful with how we pick our battles when it comes to abusing our power at work. You can't have a bleeding heart paramedic overhearing you when you're Associate Chief."

"I didn't think you agreed with me on my actions." Robert freed his arm that had been trapped by Elizabeth and wrapped it around her, pulling her close.

"I absolutely approve of your devious side being let loose when it comes to helping the people that really need it. However, that doesn't mean I can't be mad about how you went about it. Honey, next time you wanna break the rules, do it where we know everyone is on our side and not in the middle of a street full of people."

She laughed and the way he said people as if he was disgusted at saying the word. Robert kissed her forehead and pulled her tighter as she asked, "how do we fix this with the lawyers?"

They spent the next half hour discussing how they would smooth things over with the public defender's office. The overbearing detective who had coerced Elizabeth's help and finding the victim would go a long way in their favor. That and the added fact that there were no complications from the Rolling surgery. They didn't notice Whittaker watching them with interest and had forgotten about him until he cleared his throat.

"I think that's it for tonight. You've both been here for two hours and covered a lot of ground. I know you had your reservations, Robert, but that wasn't so bad, was it?" Robert looked at Whittaker in disbelief.

" _Wasn't so bad_? Your poking and prodding caused us to have a fairly big argument."

"Yes, Robert. You said things that you needed to say to each other, and while yes, it was in the course of an argument, that's why you're here. To get it off your chest in a neutral place where you can leave the argument behind at the end of the session. You need that if you're going to live and work together as you do." Robert made a rather childish face at Whittaker, who shook his head. "You're welcome to have these arguments at home, and then where does that leave you? Do you sleep in separate rooms while you refuse to talk? Does she go back to her apartment for a week? Now there's something you really don't like. Perhaps that's something you dislike more than coming here."

Robert looked down at Elizabeth, still wrapped up into him on the couch. It was his turn to be guilty of not thinking of consequences. While Elizabeth had been spending a great deal of time at his, she still had a flat and spent a few nights a week there. He did not want to go backward and have Elizabeth spend more time there because they lacked in the communication department.

They got up to leave, and Whittaker walked them out, suggesting they get through Thanksgiving and then come back in a week or two and discuss how they survived the holiday and how the issue with Rollings was going. He recommended coming once or twice a month at first to help establish healthier communication habits and then tapper off to as needed or emergencies.

Emotionally exhausted, Elizabeth phoned their favorite take out place from the car and timed it so their food would be arriving shortly after they did. A warm greeting from Gretel went a long way to shaking away the heaviness of the evening. Farm more intelligent than her people, Gretel understood that cuddles were needed and took advantage of this by climbing on the couch with them. Two human pillows were better than one, and she enjoyed the attention she got while Robert and Elizabeth leaned into each other.

Sometime later, Robert lay awake; he had gotten off the emotional roller coaster but was still feeling the side effects. Much to his chagrin, It was easy for Robert to think about everything he and Elizabeth had been through and find the two hours with Dr. Whitaker insightful and worth the personal discomfort. Curled up next to him, Elizabeth had barely left his side since they had gotten home, and Robert didn't want her to. He didn't realize what it would mean to him to have Elizabeth acknowledge how her actions had hurt him and take responsibility for that. In the quiet of their home, he allowed himself revel in her determination to work on how she handled the work aspect of their relationship and to support him in the ways he needed her to.

The ring hidden away in the safe burned at the back of his mind. While he knew all couples argued at some point or another, his parents' marriage had been blessed with very few issues of consequence. They had been happily married till death do us part several years earlier, and Robert was determined to have that with Elizabeth.

* * *

If Tuesday evening had been emotionally exhausting, Wednesday was pure chaos. Robert and Elizabeth had gone into work feeling lighter than they had in days. It was a half-day for Robert, and he spent all of it doing admin to prepare for having the remainder of the week off.

It was noon when he finally left his desk and went to find Lizzy before her next surgery. She and Shirley were at the main desk, talking about their thanksgiving plans when Robert found her.

"Hey, I'm about to head out." A hand on her back as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Off the greet the family Dr. Romano?"

"Shirley, why do I feel like when you say that you're looking to cause trouble, or at the very least, be filled in on trouble?"

"Dr. Romano, I don't know what you're talking about." Shirley took on a tone of fake hurt, and Elizabeth sniggered next to her.

"Robert, Shirley isn't here to cause trouble. Besides, she wants Christmas off this year."

"Ah, so that means our Thanksgiving won't be subject to hospital gossip."

"I wouldn't dream of it. And that's Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day."

"Just make sure to remove my phone number and pager from the call list for Christmas, and you've got a deal."

"Done."

That was Shirley smug and pleased, a task no one warned him about when he took over as Chief. Turning to Lizzy, they briefly talked about her next surgery and how Edson was on it. Edson, who had been irritating recently. Elizabeth had planned a harmless revenge of playing some music that was not to Edson's taste. The playlist included everything from The Proclaimers, Ian Dury, and to David Bowie. Robert wasn't familiar with most of the songs she listed but, he and Shirley got a kick out of the revenge. It wasn't a lengthy procedure, so Robert wasn't worried about the rest of the surgical team getting too irritated with the selection, and most were game for a little good-natured ribbing of Edson, to begin with.

"I'm out of here. Ladies, don't burn the place down while I'm gone." A quick kiss from Lizzy and he was out the door to collect his sister and her family from the airport.

* * *

That's where the chaos started. Robert hadn't seen his sister since a short visit around New Years Lizzy's first year in America, and it was a boisterous reunion at the airport. Gwen swung out her arms wide upon seeing her baby brother hitting her daughter and husband and yelled, "Baby brother!" Much to Robert's embarrassment. David and Anna rolled their eyes at Gwen's antics, knowing better than to get in between the Romano siblings after this long apart. Eventually, Gwen was done tormenting her brother, and they were able to gather their luggage to head to Robert's house.

The first thing Robert discovered upon arriving home was that Gretel was overwhelmed by all the new people. The second was that Anna was far too excitable around dogs, something revealed when she squealed loudly and dropped to the floor to love on Gretel. The third involved Gretel looking around in confusion before going to the door where Robert realize she was looking for Lizzy; even Gretel thought this Holiday apart was horrible.

It had been several years since his sister had been to his house, and she proceeded to be nosy while Robert and David had a beer. Anna had gone off to take a nap, and David breathed a sigh of relief when both women had left the room. A former Air Force Pilot, a snippy Romano, and a teenager always made travel days rough for the Allen family. Over their beer, Robert tried with an unknown level of success to enlist David into helping keep Gwen in check around Elizabeth. David knew better than most the kind of trouble Gwen liked to cause where her brother's life was concerned, and whilst he felt bad for Robert, he made no promises about going against his wife. Robert decided he would have to put the case to his mother over dinner. Another order of chaos that made Robert wish he wasn't driving. Three women in his family to gang up on him about his love life was stressful enough to earn him a pat on the back from David, who volunteered to drink for him.

Somehow Robert and Gretel survived the night, but not without contemplating sneaking off to Elizabeth's for safety. He was awoken early the next morning by Gretel jumping on the bed, half-asleep; Robert almost fell out of bed, so confused as to what was happening. Gretel had fled her bed in the living room, not when David quietly got up for coffee, but when Anna came down looking for a morning puppy cuddle. Far too awake to fall back asleep, Robert chose to have his morning coffee and enjoy the last few hours of the calm before the storm. Sometime around 10, Gwen and Robert would set to work in the kitchen with their mother arriving around noon with the few dishes they had asked her to bring. Lizzy was due to arrive around two, and Robert hoped that everything was a success.

When the bell finally rang, signaling Elizabeth's arrival, all three Allen's were seemingly on their best behavior. Naturally, Robert did not trust them.

"Hey." Elizabeth stepped into his arms and greeted Robert with a kiss. "I'm not late, am I?"

"No right on time. My family is still distracted enough in the kitchen that it should be less of an ambush and more of a distracted introduction."

"So, no one's killed each other yet."

"The day is still young, Lizzy."

When they stepped into the kitchen, Elizabeth saw Cara and a woman that must be Gwen locked in a staredown. The younger woman broke her gaze first and said with a Robert-esq tone, "You _must be Lizzy_." Complete with what Elizabeth now thought must be a familial smirk.

"Elizabeth, and you must be Gwen." One Romano calling her Lizzy was enough; she didn't need the nickname to catch on.

"Sure." Gwen was no taller than Robert and shared a number of traits with him other than sarcasm. The same strong jaw, red hair, and intense look, but Gwen was dusted with freckles from days worshiping in the sun. And while Robert had dark brown eyes, Gwen's were a piercing blue that she shared with their mother. Gwen carried herself with a natural charm that Robert often hid around strangers.

The introductions moved on to David and Anna, both taller than the Romanos, although not by much in Anna's case. David kept his dark hair short and faced clean-shaven, a habit left over from his days as a pilot with the Air Force. Anna took after her father in looks, with only the slightest hint of red in her hair.

The meal itself went smoothly. Gwen and Elizabeth were getting along a little too well, but nothing to be concerned about. Anna had an endless supply of questions on what it was like growing up in England, which eventually prompted Gwen to ask how her brother behaved in England. Elizabeth's response of 'Our colleagues were thrilled to see us leave if that gives you an idea' went over well and an easy going back and forth developed after that. Elizabeth learned that Gwen was an engineer working out of a small but successful firm. David was now an accountant after a training accident in the Air Force ended his career on a medical discharge. A career path that Anna had some interest in, if just in a misguided way, according to David.

"It's _not_ misguided, Dad!"

"Yes, it is. You've got no idea what you're talking about." Elizabeth looked back and forth between Anna and David, the teenager clearly exasperated at what was an obviously common argument.

"I'm confused here," Elizabeth interjected, "why don't you want your daughter joining the Air Force?"

"I'd love her to, but it's not the Air Force she wants to fly in." David recognized Elizabeth's confused look and sighed. "She wants to fly _for the Navy_."

Half the table broke out in laughter at David's look of dismay, and Anna just glared at her father.

"This is your fault Robert; _you_ took her to see that damn Tom Cruise movie," David said, turning to his brother-in-law.

"I was in love with Tom Cruise and convinced Uncle Rob to take me to see Top Gun," Anna addressed Elizabeth, "and when I left, I was in love with his plane. So yeah, I want to join the Navy." David groaned across the table. "Cheer up dad, things could be worse; I could want to be the crazy person who j _umps out of the planes_ instead of flying them."

David, who had his face resting in his hands at this point, looked up to say, "Don't you dare." In a serious tone. Gwen and Robert just laughed, having been through variations of this conversation numerous times before. Cara decided it was best if they moved on from the conversation and put the food away. Declaring that she had children to do the work for her now and Elizabeth was a guest and therefore exempt, Cara pulled Elizabeth through to the living room whilst leaving the remainder of the family to clear the table.

They were talking about Robert's childhood when he finally escaped the kitchen. Cara was telling Elizabeth how Robert had spent weeks trying to convince his father to sign him up for a football camp that was popular amongst the children of the local Firehouse. John Romano had been a Driver Engineer at the time and like the idea of his son playing ball with the sons' of his mates , but Robert did not take after his father in height or stature. Not wanting to see his son get pummeled by boys twice his size, John sought out a sport where Robert's skill and not just his size would play a greater role starting out.

"John wanted Robert to be friends with the sons' of his friends, but at ten years old, it was clear that those boys would all be bigger than Robert. He didn't want Robert to go through his peers knocking him to the ground every day at that age. Convinced him to wait a year instead and found karate lessons for him to do in the meantime. Turns out, Robert loved it so much that when the topic of playing football came up later, he couldn't care less about it."

"Ma, that better be the only story you tell. Please tell me you haven't pulled out pictures to show Lizzy, either."

"You've got _pictures with you_?" Elizabeth perked up and gave Robert a cheeky grin as she questioned his mother.

"Those pictures are at the house."

"Thank god," Robert interjected.

"It's not as if I don't live in town; the two of you should come over for dinner sometime. There's a very adorable picture of Robert posing next to his father in his first Gi-"

"Ma, _no_."

Elizabeth was laughing at him now, ignoring him as he called her a traitor until he reminded her of her own family's impending visit. The laughter was brought to a stop when they heard Gwen scream from the kitchen before bolting out the back of the house, with David hot on her heels.

Having helped with the dishes, Anna had gone into the back yard to get away from the adults and decided to relive her tree-climbing days. At about ten feet up, she had gone out on a limb to sit and feel the autumn breeze when the branch broke. Gwen had been watching from the window and panicked upon seeing her daughter fall. The panic of the adults trying to get outside stirred Gretel, who ran out as well, knocking David over in the process. Gretel, it turned out, had a previously unknown protective streak that came out when she got to Anna. Robert had to pull the Bouvier away so Elizabeth could examine his niece. It wasn't Thanksgiving without a trip to the ER and this year it would be for a broken arm.

A harried car ride later found them at County, where Robert had hoped to boss everyone around to the point where they would ignore that he was treating family. He had forgotten, however, that it was Weaver who was the Chief of the ER and Weaver who was working today. She wouldn't even let him do the x-ray to see what kind of break it was. Instead, she tried to send him Carter.

"Carter get the fuck out, Kerry; I don't want some resident treating my niece."

"Robert, Carter, is perfectly capable of treating a broken arm."

"He washed out of Surgery!"

"Hey! I didn't washout. Why am I chopped liver today? First, Carol, now this."

"Robert," Elizabeth put her hand on his back, rubbing it in gentle, soothing motions. "If you won't let Kerry or Carter treat her, then let me. You trust me, right?"

"I don't know, Elizabeth, that Carter guy is kind of cute." The pain killers Haleh had given Anna had kicked in. It made Robert relax enough to nod his head in agreement to Elizabeth, who switched to Surgeon mode instantly.

"Ok, time for everyone to get out."

"What?" It was Gwen's turn to be displeased, and she and Robert gave Elizabeth identical dirty looks. They had not been expecting to be kicked out.

"Anna needs x-rays, and that can't be done with you lot lurking about. Robert, take them up to the 4th floor and unlock my office. It's clearly a time for the emergency drawer."

"What's the emergency drawer?"

"It's got chocolate and single malt."

"Well, take the emergency drawer. Thank you, Elizabeth." David pulled on his wife until she was out of the exam room, and Robert followed after kissing Elizabeth.

Several hours later, Anna's arm had been set and wrapped in a cast. It was a clean break, something Elizabeth was thankful for, believing that if Anna had needed surgery that they would have to sedate Gwen and possibly Robert. The gossip mill was already in full swing when they escaped the ER, and Elizabeth would have bet money that Carter was the one initiating the gossip that day. Before leaving, Elizabeth had managed to stop by the maternity ward with flowers for Carol, who had been having a rough time of it. Mark Greene had filled her in briefly before her pager went off, Robert probably wanting to know where she had gone off to.

When they had finally made it back to Robert's, everyone was exhausted. Anna had gone right to bed, the pain killers had knocked her out at some point along the ride home, and Gwen wasn't far behind her with Elizabeth having given her an Ativan to calm down. Robert poured two scotches for himself and David and brought them into the living room. Elizabeth, who was on the couch, shifted over when Robert came in the room, promptly using his lap as a pillow once seated. Her first 'properly' celebrated Thanksgiving in America, and she decided the holiday was overrated. As David and Robert sipped on their scotches, she drifted off to sleep to Robert, gently stroking her hair. Thanksgiving was definitely overrated.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

AN: Thanks again for all the lovely reviews. I still own nothing, but since we're starting to turn the corner towards holidays, my Christmas wish list has the rights to ER on it. If that's too much, then I'd like to know who Alex Kingston's hairstylist is—asking for me and my hair.

This one is for Rocketlover, who yet again distracted me from the final edit of this chapter and, at the same time, made me put on paper an idea for another story. Also, without spoiling it, there is a pouty Robert moment that was suggested by Rocketlover.

* * *

Elizabeth sat in Carol's room in the maternity ward, checking in on her friend and cooing over the twins. Carol was exhausted but was happy for the company. For some reason, hearing about the drama of a Romano Family Thanksgiving was the funniest thing to her, and Elizabeth privately wondered if they were still medicating her. Or perhaps this was a new stage of pregnancy brain.

One delivery in the ER and one traumatic c section later, Carol had two beautiful, healthy girls. Elizabeth brought with her the two blankets she had knit for her friend. It had been ages since she had the time or desire to knit, but for some reason, baby knits were always irresistible. Carol thought the cream-colored wool blankets were the perfect thing for the cold Chicago winter coming up and was touched that Elizabeth had taken the time to make a gift after a period of falling out.

Elizabeth had fallen asleep on the couch at Robert's the night before and woke the next morning to the sound of the alarm. At some point, Robert had carried her up to bed, and she hadn't even known it. With an early morning procedure, Elizabeth had hoped to sneak out of the house before Robert's family was us, but the jet lag was just enough for David to be awake. That or the ten years living on a military schedule.

He was sitting at the island drinking a black coffee, reading the newspaper at a time when even Robert had slept through the alarm.

"You know, if you're worried about what we all think of you practically living here, don't be. If any of us had doubts before, we certainly don't anymore. You handled yesterday well when Rob and Gwen fell apart. Former military by any chance?" David had gotten up as he spoke and made her a cup of coffee. It was black, and she usually liked a hint of cream, but the gesture was appreciated none the less.

"No military for me, although plenty of my family have been. Just a lifetime of medical knowledge from being raised in a family of surgeons."

It had been a strange conversation, with neither wanting to pick the wrong topic over coffee. Eventually, Elizabeth had gone into work and heard through the grapevine that Carol ended up having a C Section, which was how she spent the morning checking on her friend. Work called her away, though, and she got to deal with Edson in surgery, something she hated intensely.

* * *

Robert made it to noon before finding his sister maddening. Gwen had awoken to feel slightly hungover from the emotional rollercoaster and Ativan combination of the day before. David had sequestered himself away in the study, and Anna was propped up on the couch, claiming there was nothing to watch.

Sneaking out had been too easy. A ready-made excuse of picking up movies for Anna and Robert somehow found himself at work for a short while. He couldn't find Elizabeth, and when he asked the nursing staff, they suggested she might be visiting Carol again. They also gave a short briefing on how Carol's labor had gone.

A bouquet of flowers in hand, Robert made his way to the maternity ward, hoping to find Lizzy and, at the very least, see how her friend was doing. Perhaps he'd get to meet her twins as well.

When he stuck his head in the door, there was no Lizzy in sight; just a harassed looking Carol Hathaway. Twins with no help, and they were both fussy.

'Would you like a hand?" Hathaway had a deer in the headlights look about her. Robert knew she wasn't his biggest fan but hopped he came off sincere enough. "I spent two weeks with my sister after my niece was born; I'm not new at this." that convinced her quickly enough, and Carol signaled for him to take the twin that was in the bedside cot.

"That's Tess. She's been fed and changed, and I've got no idea what she wants yet." Carol was busy dealing with the girl in her arms, and Robert moved away to face the window, giving her privacy if Twin Two needed to feed.

"She just needs a little soothing."

He loved children. They were so beautiful and innocent. The world hadn't had a chance to latch its claws into them yet and contort them into something ugly. Very softly, he started to sing whilst rocking Tess back and forth.

It worked. A gentle, soothing voice was all Tess had needed, and Robert so caught up in singing missed that another person had entered the room. When he finally turned around, he found not just Carol staring at him in awe, but Mark Greene, and an older gentleman as well.

"Kate's fussy as well. _Can you do two at once_?" Carol gently held out twin two, and Robert shifted Tess in his arms to make room for her sister, thankful there was a chair close to the bed that rocked. Feeling slightly exposed, he continued to sing, ignoring the looks he was getting from Mark Greene. Both girls were asleep shorty, and the older gentleman took pity on him and moved the cots within reach.

"I need you to teach me how you did that. What song was that? Certainly not a lullaby, I know."

"It's not."

"And?"

Robert glared at her for a moment before remembering this was a sleep-deprived new mother. "It's called "Is It Okay If I Call You Mine." I wrote it for Lizzy. But Hathaway, if you tell her that, _I'll fire you_. We weren't together when I wrote that. "

"Well." Carol took a long pause to study him intently. "I think I definitely get it now. I'm going to have to ask Elizabeth if I can borrow you for babysitting and getting the girls to sleep. Cause that _was magical_." Carol continued to stare at him as if he had grown two extra heads and become a hydra.

"Must be some woman." Robert looked up to see the older man speaking and looked at him properly for the first time. Looking between Greene and the unknown gentleman, Robert put two and two together and guessed he was probably Greene's father, in town for the holiday. Robert studied him intently before decided as much as a pain in the ass Greene was; he liked what he saw in the man's father.

"She is. I had to search the whole wide world for her."

"Well, Dr. Romano, you certainly are full of. . . _surprises_." There was a nasty tone the way Mark Greene said surprises, and Robert knew he still held a grudge for losing out to Robert when it came to Elizabeth. "Forgive me, Dr. Romano, this is my father David Greene, Dad, this is Dr. Robert Romano."

"Are you an ER doc like Mark?"

"No. I'm Chief of Staff and Chief of Surgery."

"Oh, so you're Mark's boss." Robert had to fight the smirk off his face as he saw Mark roll his eyes. "I thought the red-headed woman downstairs was."

"Dr. Weaver is the Chief of the ER. And don't knock the redheads; we run the hospital. We have monthly meetings over scotch and decide who to torment next."

Seeing the look of horror on Mr. Greene's face, Carol decided to throw him a lifeline. "He's just being protective; Elizabeth is Associate Chief of Surgery and has red hair as well. Although much nicer than Kerry's. And I don't think Kerry drinks scotch."

"If it's a work thing and it was put in front of her, Kerry would absolutely drink the scotch. It's a power move."

Mr. Greene just shook his head. "My mother warned me off of red-headed women, said they had too much of a temper. How do you manage to work with your wife?"

Robert wanted to laugh. He really liked David Greene. "Well, luckily for me, I was raised by one. And Lizzy is my girlfriend, not wife. I appreciate the compliment nonetheless. Speaking of Lizzy, Carol, have you seen here lately? I came down here looking for her; I've got to head out and hit up blockbusters and wanted to see her before I left."

"She was in here about an hour ago dropping off the blankets for the girls. Movie night with all the family?" Hathaway was trying not to laugh and failing at it.

"I'm guessing she told you about our eventful Thanksgiving." Seeing the look on Mr. Greene's face, Robert filled him in on his niece, landing in the ER. Still a little too doped up, Robert had decided to go and rent _Top Gun_ for Anna, mainly because Elizabeth hadn't seen it. Something Mr. Greene took offense to being a career Navy man himself. Robert spent a few more minutes talking with him about his niece's desire to fly for the Navy and her Air Force father's general grump about it before deciding it was time to head out.

By the time Robert made it home, Anna was awake, David was off on a run with Gretel, his mother was there, and Gwen had gotten bored. A round or three of questioning on where he had been and what took him so long occurred before his mother stepped in, suggesting that Gwen needed a hobby other than harassing her brother. Being mature adults, the siblings waited till Cara's back was turned to make faces at each other. The moment Cara was out of the room, Gwen was at it again. This time Gwen was having a go at him about Elizabeth sneaking out of the house that morning. "Poor Robby, he has to sneak his girlfriend in and out when no one is looking. Don't tell me she doesn't want people to know she sleeps with you."

Robert was about to respond in kind when their mother beat him to it. " _Gwendolyn! Don't you ever stop_ , or are you incapable of holding your tongue? She treated your daughter yesterday, for Christ's sake! Elizabeth had to work this morning, and even if she didn't, I'm sure she would have snuck out _just to avoid you_." Robert tried and failed not to look smug. He knew that Gwen was still shaken up over Anna and was taking it out on him, but Lizzy was not fair game. "Don't be an arse to Elizabeth if she shows up today, or you'll risk alienating your future sister in law."

It was Robert's turn to not be thrilled. He had been purposely vague with Gwen about how things were with Elizabeth, not wanting to give her ammunition to use during her visit. Gwen looked between her mother and brother, slightly hurt that she had been left out of the loop. "It's that serious, then?" A short nod was the only response she got. "Have you bought a ring?"

Robert looked over at his mother, not sure how to answer. Gwen had never been big on jewelry, but their mother's engagement ring could be different. He had no idea if it had ever been offered to Gwen or how Gwen would feel knowing he had it.

"I gave him mine. When he's going to propose with it, I don't know." Cara had a smirk on her face and a tone of voice Robert didn't like. An identical smirk lit up Gene's face as she picked up on what their mother was really saying. _When are you going to propose and how are you going to do it._ A retreat was in order, and Robert had very few exits available to him. Robert had always enjoyed teasing Elizabeth about how she had a saint to pray to for every occasion and regretted that now that he needed an escape from his family. A lifeline was thrown to him in the form of Anna, who had managed to get off the couch to get a soda. She walked into the room and looked at the three adults, and shook her head.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

" _Heeyy_ , look what I brought you." Robert slid the copy of _Top Gun_ across the counter to her, knowing she would take the bait and inadvertently save him.

"Excellent! Dad's going to be so pissed."

Hours later, David was still grumbling about the movie choice with Robert and Anna occasionally shushing him. The Allens were curled up on the couch, and Robert and Elizabeth and tucked themselves into the loveseat. Cara had gone home after dinner, dramatically rolling her eyes and warning Elizabeth about the pettiness the movie would bring out in her son in law. Towards the end of the movie, when Anna announced that this was her favorite part, David's grumbling got loud enough that Gwen threatened to make him sleep on the couch if he couldn't keep quiet. Something that resulted in a round of sniggering from the room. Upon the movie ending, Anna popped her head up from her mom's lap and, in her most serious tone possible, asked Elizabeth what she thought and was Maverick or Goose her favorite.

"I liked it, and I see why you like the planes. Err actually, Goose kind of reminded me of someone."

"Goose is great; who'd he remind you of?"

"Ahh, a man we work with," Robert gave her a look, not sure where she was going with that. "I imagine it's what Mark Greene would look like, a little younger and with a full head of hair, of course." Robert's nostrils flared, disliking the comparison between Goose and Greene.

"Lizzy. While I don't mind you comparing Greene to the man who dies, I'm clearly Maverick in this equation."

"Who's this Greene guy, and what's your deal with him, Uncle Rob?"

"He made the mistake of asking me out in a uh, rather inappropriate manner." Elizabeth was having far too much fun with Robert's reaction over the Greene comparison.

"Ahhh, so Uncle Rob was jealous of the competition."

Pulling Elizabeth a little closer to him, Robert got snippy with his niece. "I wasn't jealous because there was _no competition_. Or did you forget Lizzy compared him to the guy who dies? Now, Lizzy, this is where you say that you liked Maverick best and that I'm Maverick in this comparison." Elizabeth cracked a grin and started laughing. "Lizzy, I'm Maverick. Right?" Elizabeth let him pout for a moment before leaning in and kissing him.

"Yes, love, you're Maverick."

* * *

The rest of the Allen Family visit had flown by with no further trips to the ER, much to everyone's delight. Saturday had been spent wandering around the city and playing tourist. Sunday had been reserved for Mass and then a final lunch before a later afternoon flight back to New York. Robert had almost considered asking the priest to perform an exorcism on whatever his sister would inevitably leave behind; however, a look from Lizzy suggested she knew what he was thinking.

Later in the following week, Robert was finally able to catch up with Max and the rest of the 'Boy's Club' as Elizabeth liked to call it. They had planned to get together and swap Thanksgiving war stories. Max had made it as well as Matt Williams, the pediatrician, and Charles Cameron. Max had a relatively uneventful Thanksgiving with Jo's parents, who were rather low maintenance. Make a good meal, have a drink, and don't cause drama, and they were happy. Matt had given up Thanksgiving, angling to have Christmas off instead; his sister, who lived out of state, had her first child recently, and he wanted to go and visit. Cameron, however, had drama. Newly dating someone, the woman had made the mistake of inviting him to her Thanksgiving dinner. He showed up in a kilt. When his date's brother called him a fag for wearing a skirt, Cameron hit him. The father tried to break up the fight while the mother poured a tall drink. Now newly single, Cameron was keeping an eye open on the bar for any attractive women. Feeling slightly better about his own holiday drama, Robert shared his stories.

"Well, you've gotten the introduction to your family out of the way; now you get to look forward to Christmas." Cameron was purposefully goading Robert, knowing full well that Christmas could be a nightmare. "We should probably plan a get together of some sort since part of my family is coming to see you and Elizabeth."

A confused Matt needed clarification on just why Cameron's family was visiting Robert. Upon hearing the convoluted way they all knew each other started laughing and felt so bad for them, he bought the next round. Feeling the need to be slightly irritating, Cameron ordered a gin martini, telling Robert that he remembered Isabelle Corday drinking five over dinner while leading the table in intelligent conversation about astrophysics.

"Fuck." Head in hands, Robert let out a sigh. "Lizzy hasn't said if her mother is coming. Great. I've got your cousins to look forward to, who from all the stories I've heard may or may not side with me just to irritate Mr. Corday. Then I've got Mr. Corday, a man who hates me and wants to see me on his operating table for something experimental. There's maybe Andrew, who will act somewhat neutrally. My mother, who will probably get on with everyone. Now I've got to think about if Mrs. Corday is coming and how to keep her and Mr. Corday from killing each other. And to top it all off, I've got no idea where anyone is staying."

Robert did not get the support from his friends he was looking for. Instead, they were laughing at him. Traitorous bastards the lot. "Laugh it up, Cameron; they're probably going to visit you when they're done with me." That wiped the smug look off Cameron's face. The evening was winding down, Robert and Charles made plans to grab Elizabeth for lunch one day soon and plan how much of their Christmas festivities would overlap. Alliances would need to be formed, and a plan of attack strategized. When Cameron and Matt had gotten cabs, Robert and Max decided to go for a walk to talk properly.

"You're getting serious about Elizabeth."

"Max, I've always been serious about Elizabeth."

The look Max gave him suggested otherwise. "Fine, at one point, I found her attractive without actually knowing her. She was never in the trophy category, though; it could have never been just sex for me. I've always loved and admired her mind, her intellect."

"I know, Rob. You haven't shut up about her since you met her. At least now, you can talk about something other than her surgical skill."

They roamed along the streets of Chicago for a while longer in silence before Robert broke it with a soft, "I've got my mother's engagement ring. I asked for it in front of Andrew." Max let out a long whistle in response.

"So things are going that well, even with you being her boss now."

Robert came to a stop, contemplating what to say on that note, if anything. Elizabeth had never said anything about hiding the couples counseling from their friends, but she had also never said anything about telling them either. Still feeling uncomfortable with the idea of attending counseling, Robert wanted someone to talk to about that that wasn't Elizabeth, though.

"We found someone to talk to. About work issues when they come up, I mean. Elizabeth's parents are divorced and. . . well, it's not really my place to say much, but she's worried about being in a similar relationship. Two equally stubborn and intelligent people who butt heads and can't make it work. So yeah, we've got someone to help deal with the work shit."

"I'm surprised you agreed, but I'm glad to hear it." Robert turned sharply to look at his friend. "Frankly, I wasn't sure how the two of you would manage that. You're my best friend, Rob, but very often it's your way or the highway. I'm glad you're being proactive about it."

"Hmpf. It's not really proactive. It's. . . " Trailing off, Robert thought long and hard about what he wanted to say next. Eventually, he pulled out his wallet and produced a crisp twenty-dollar bill. "Here, I've just bought ten minutes of your time as my lawyer and thus am protected by attorney-client privilege."

"Fine. Just don't ask me to write your prenup."

"Lizzy went in the field for a multi-car pile-up. One of the victims turned out to be a suspected car jacket, and he had ditched the woman driving in rather. . . unfortunate circumstances. They couldn't find her." Robert continued to fill his new lawyer in on the situation and how it was now coming back to bite them in the ass.

"So we've got fruit of the poisonous tree. I'm not sure what to tell you on this one, Rob. A third party reported this, so it's not like you can claim the patient was so out of it he couldn't know what he was hearing. I don't think they will do anything against Elizabeth considering the circumstances; she could claim ignorance of that particular US law and cite the detective's harassment as the cause. But I don't see how his confession about the carjacking victim doesn't get thrown out, even when you add on the rape. We can probably get a slap on the wrist for the detective who should have known better if that helps."

Robert shook his head, not wanting to stir up more trouble around this particular case.

* * *

Elizabeth had been thinking about her mother and Christmas. Unfortunately, getting a hold of her mother was far more problematic than it should have been. Isabelle Corday was still very much peeved with her daughter about learning of her promotion second had. Helena and Malcolm had gotten the call from Charles. Helena promptly called Isabelle to talk about how wonderful it was; only Isabelle had not the foggiest about what they were speaking of. Now, several months later, Isabelle was still cross with her daughter and refusing to speak to her. Elizabeth knew that if a Christmas invitation wasn't extended, even via the answering machine, it would create an even greater chasm between her and her mother. So far, Elizabeth had sent an email, a letter, and left a message on the machine at Isabelle's work and home, asking to please call her.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, where Madam Corday was concerned. On Saturday, Elizabeth found herself in a rare situation, she had the day off, and Robert didn't. After a lazy lie-in with Gretel, Elizabeth had gone back to her flat to check messages and attempt another call to her mother. A light lunch later, she poured a glass of Chardonnay for courage and called her mother.

One, two, three, four, and then five rings. A moment later, the machine picked up, and her mother's voice came on.

"Leave a message _, if you must_."

"Mother, it's your daughter Elizabeth, just in case you'd forgotten who I was. Look, I've been trying to reach you for ages now. Somehow everyone is coming here for Christmas, and I wanted to invite you. I'd have preferred to actually speak to you to issue the invitation, but here we are. So call me. My number hasn't changed."

Elizabeth hung the phone up and looked around. Her flat felt different somehow like it wasn't hers anymore. It had never been much of hers, to begin with. When Elizabeth had first moved to the states, she found a company to pick out the flat and then decorate it for her. It had made more sense than shipping everything over or starting from scratch, only planning to be there a year. Now well into her third year in the States, Elizabeth sensed the difference between who she was then versus who she was now.

The phone rang.

"Hello, Mother."

"What made you think it was me?"

"You always screen your calls on a Saturday evening. You say it's to weed out the stupid people. Which, by the way, _I'm thrilled to have made the cut_."

"Honestly, Elizabeth, you're not stupid. You've just made some questionable life choices. Like becoming a surgeon."

" _Mother I-"_

"Look. You called about Christmas. I've already heard about it. The last to _as always."_

"No. I didn't have anything to do with the Cameron's or Daddy coming for the holidays. I haven't actually invited them, just you."

"Oh." The snide tone left Isabelle's voice immediately as she realized the only plan Elizabeth was choosing to make for the holidays was to try and see her mother. "I don't know, Elizabeth. I-"

"No! No! You don't get to pull that with me. It's been years since I've seen you and if you're going to be cross that Daddy will be here, then just get over it! Being a petulant child can only go so far when your only child lives in another country."

"Yes, I know you do. It's why I had booked a lecture series at the University of Chicago for February, which is why I don't know if I can leave London for Christmas. It's end of term, and I've got to prep everything for my absence."

"Oh. Well. When did you plan all of this?"

"July."

" _MOTHER!_ "

"I thought it'd make a lovely surprise Elizabeth. Apparently not. Tell me, if I came for Christmas, where would I stay? With you, or would Charles be staying with you?"

"Frankly, Mother, no one has asked to stay with me. And if everyone is actually descending upon us, I'll probably just stay at Robert's and lend my flat to whoever needs it."

A long and overly dramatic paused later, and Isabelle finally responded. "I'll think about it. And Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"I'm very proud of you. I may not like your profession, but I do understand what it means to have your job title at your age. And you _didn't_ get that from your father."

"No, I didn't."

"I love you, darling, and I'm going back to my martini now. I'll call you in a week or so."

Isabelle hung up on her, not waiting for a response. A bazaar call with her mother if there ever was one, Elizabeth was left unsure of what to do. Inevitably her family would be calling her now, asking where she had room to put them up at, and she wasn't very keen on asking Robert outright to borrow as guest rooms. She had been spending plenty of time there, but there had never been an invitation to move in properly. The guest rooms would be better off being offered by him first before she counted on their availability. Gwen and her family could still make a last-minute Christmas appearance. Taking a last look around, Elizabeth grabbed her things and left. She was headed home.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

AN: Thank you again for the reviews. This is getting posted a little earlier than normal, but it's also a slightly shorter chapter. Blame the election or my work schedule. To the reviewer who asked if Robert would sing that song to Elizabeth before proposing, the answer is no. Sorry to disappoint you, but I've got a different idea for that.

There is a dash of inspiration from Rocketlover's Eggsnog in this.

As always, will write for chocolate. Or better mead than I can find on my work trip. Enjoy, because its time for me to go to sleep.

* * *

With judgment day fast approaching, Robert was trying to enjoy the holiday season before his potential future father in law showed up to oversee his death. Robert had jokingly told Max that if anything happened to him whilst Mr. Corday was in town that it was probably foul play, a comment that earned him an elbow in the side from Elizabeth. Mrs. Corday had finally called Elizabeth back, declining the invitation to Christmas, which Robert was secretly grateful for. She already had a full plate with preparing for her upcoming lecture series and didn't feel right leaving the university in the lurch last minute after exams. That just left Mr. Corday, Mrs. and Mrs. Cameron, and potentially Andrew. Robert had made a poor choice in asking if Andrew would bring his girlfriend if he came, and Elizabeth gave him the cold shoulder for the afternoon as a result. At one point, Robert had asked why Elizabeth didn't like this woman, and all he had gotten out of her was ' _hen night gone wrong_.' Ever since then, there had been no love lost between the two women. Hell, Robert didn't even know her name, and Elizabeth had been unusually petty by refusing to give it.

The first hurdle had been finessing the schedule for the two of them to have Christmas off. Christmas Day fell on a Saturday, a day that was already in demand to have off, and Elizabeth had her hands full attempting to accommodate the surgical staff's holiday requests. As a last resort, Elizabeth reminded the surgeons about holiday pay for anyone who worked, and an additional bribe for anyone who volunteered to work the holiday managed to work in her favor. Whilst Elizabeth had managed to get the full weekend off for Robert and herself; she hadn't been as successful with Christmas Eve. The best option she could get was Christmas Eve off for Robert, but Elizabeth would have to work. Too many surgeons had wanted the Friday night off, and Elizabeth had worked out a trade with Anspaugh. He would get Christmas Eve and Christmas day off, and in return, he would help cover the light admin load for the week after Christmas so she could spend time with her family.

Robert hadn't been pleased that Elizabeth had to work Christmas Eve, especially since he had been contemplating extending the invitation for her family to stay at his home. The idea of needing to entertain her father and godparents seemed daunting at best, and Robert had picked up the phone the moment Elizabeth had left his office. Offering to buy Charles Cameron lunch the next day, Robert planned to see if the American Camerons had plans for Christmas Eve that he could send Lizzy's family off to. Dumb luck and an expensive lunch were on his side. Cameron Two had a Christmas party to attend that he was taking his parents to, and after having a good laugh at Robert's predicament, he extended the invitation to Elizabeth's family. With the prospect of having to entertain without Elizabeth taken care of, Robert felt much better about inviting her family to stay with them. The caveat, of course, was that she could not leave him alone with her father.

Growing up, Robert had always loved Christmas. Helping his father pick out a tree to bring home and helping his mother decorate, it had always been one of his favorite traditions. While he had owned his house for several years, this would be the first Christmas decorating it properly and hosting the celebrations. The past few years he had spent at his mother's, sister's, or out of the country. So when the second week of December rolled around, Robert had excitedly dragged Lizzy from store to store after work, picking out decorations together. His child-like enthusiasm was infectious to the point that Elizabeth had snuck off to purchase a few of her own decorations with the retort, 'that's for me to know and you to find out.'

Wednesday morning had been relatively straight forward for Robert, a little bit of admin and then a juicy six-hour procedure. Walking out of recovery, he was ready to kick back and enjoy a late lunch in his office when he finally found what Lizzy had done with her 'surprise' decorations. She had undoubtedly decked the halls, alright. Christmas lights hung around his windows, a small decorated tree sat on a side table, and she had gone all out, replacing the decanter. The Waterford crystal was replaced with a simple glass bottle painted with a Christmas tree, and all the ornaments were little rockets. The four low ball glasses had been painted with wreaths and matching rocket ornaments. In the middle of his desk was an advent calendar, which he gleefully broke into upon realizing it contained chocolate. Robert had been sitting behind his desk, hard at work on consuming eight days' worth of chocolate, when he finally looked up to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway smiling, something hidden behind her back.

"When did you have time to do all of this?" he asked in between bites of chocolate caramel truffles.

"Sometime between you buying Gretel a more festive dog bed and buy up all the twinkle lights in Chicago." She had a broad grin on her face and was looking at him with adoration.

"How did you manage to get all of this here? You certainly didn't come home with it all."

"I found a layaway counter at customer service and called Brenda. She didn't have car trouble this morning; she was picking everything up for me."

Usually, the idea of Lizzy and his staff ganging up on him was worrisome, but in this case, he couldn't help but be impressed at it. He would have to remember to send Brenda home early for the day as a thank you. "So. You've redecorated; what's left behind your back?"

A mischievous look appeared on Elizabeth's face, one that he know promised enjoyment for both. " _Oh, this_?" She procured a sprig of mistletoe from behind her back. "I wasn't sure if you'd like it, and then I couldn't decide on where to put it; who knows the kind of visitors you'd receive if word got out."

"Lizzy, why don't you bring that here, and I'll show you _exactly where to put it_."

"Oh, I don't know about that." She was backing out of the office, preparing to run off just to tease him. "Are you sure you'd _like it_?" The way she said 'like it' had him up from behind his desk prowling towards her; there was no way he was letting her run amok with mistletoe.

" _Elizabeth_ ," he had followed her out into the office foyer that was occupied by Brenda. Brenda, who was now blushing at the low and silky voice he used to get Lizzy's attention. "Come back here. _Now_."

"Make me." And she was off, laughing as she tried to put distance between herself and Robert's office, thinking that he wouldn't pursue her out into the halls. Too busy laughing to pay attention, she was caught off guard when Robert caught up to her.

Robert snatched out of Elizabeth's hand, as he snaked one arm around her waist, holding the mistletoe over her momentarily before tossing it aside to place his hand around her neck. Pulling her close, Robert dipped her slightly as he kissed her, eliciting wolf whistles from the few staff members who had overcome their shock at the display. Elizabeth had just started to moan into the kiss when Robert pulled back from her, raising an eyebrow in smug satisfaction.

" _Lizzy._ " She tried to lean back into him for another kiss, but he pulled away. "Who exactly did you think you were dealing with?" Letting her go, he picked up the once-abandoned sprig of mistletoe and tossed it towards her. "You should find a place to hang this, preferably at home and not your office." Robert swanned off back to his office, a smile so broad on his face that several of the women he passed did a double-take, having never seen him smile like that before.

Elizabeth was still standing in the hall, grinning like an idiot and openly checking out his ass as he walked off. She had just started to lick her lips when Shirley snapped her out of it.

"Tell me, Dr. Corday, has he always kissed like that, or is that something you had to teach him?"

"Oh, Shirley." Elizabeth turned to Shirley with an expression so sultry that Shirley wished she hadn't asked. "If I told you how Robert _really kisses_ , not only would I get fired for sexual harassment, but your puritanical country would have to deport me for indecency."

That evening Robert was disappointed. He and Lizzy had stirred up the gossip mill of County General to the point where Anspaugh and chastised him for 'creating a betting pool where the stakes were too high for the average employee.' Donald refused to say what the betting pool was about but informed Robert that he felt betting in it was akin to taking candy from a baby, knowing the two of them as he did. Yet after all of that, there was no mistletoe in the house. He had looked in the foyer, the living room, the kitchen, over Gretel's bed, the den, and to his dismay, the bedroom. No doorway in the house was adorned with the holiday spring, and it had left Robert in a somewhat disappointed mood.

Climbing in bed that night, he pulled out _Timeline_ , intending to get through another chapter while waiting on Elizabeth to come to bed. She had been slow to wind down that evening, and he was halfway through his chapter when she finally made an appearance upstairs.

"Lizzy, what is taking so long in there? You put the clothes in the hamper and put the nightgown on; it's not rocket science." He laughed at his own joke when he got no response from her.

She finally came out of the walk-in closet, wearing one of his robes loosely tied at her waist. He wasn't paying attention. "Robert, I get the feeling you're cross with me."

"Frankly, Elizabeth, I thought you'd have the place covered in mistletoe after today."

"Do you _really_ need an excuse to kiss me?"

He still wasn't looking as she approached the bed. "No, but I'd appreciate the effort now and then."

"And I would have appreciated _the mirror over your bed_ like you once promised, but I've had to make do with mistletoe as a replacement instead." That finally got his attention.

"What?" He finally looked at her. One of his black silk robes was caressing every curve of her body, and with the front gaping open to barely cover her breasts, Robert didn't need to be a rocket scientist to know that she had nothing on underneath. His mouth fell open slightly as he watched her glance up at the ceiling.

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" she purred.

She had put the mistletoe above the bed. It was all the encouragement Robert needed to get out of the bed and reach for her, pulling the tie on the robe and allowing it to fall off. His mouth was on hers in an instant.

"I didn't know you were looking forward to mirrors over the bed, Lizzy. I can happily have that fixed if you'd like." He was pulling her down to the bed, not caring about the response.

"I think the mistletoe will do nicely, don't you?"

He didn't respond, far too consumed with worshiping every inch of her. His last conscious thought was of the breathy sound she made as his mouth covered her breast. _Robert_. She had said, _Robert_.

* * *

The Christmas tree came that weekend. Robert had an ax for that. He found a place outside the city that allowed you to cut your own Christmas tree, and he had been delighted. Elizabeth had been skeptical at best when he insisted on bringing Gretel along, not knowing how they would manage to get the tree home, to begin with. While there, Gretel had managed to knock the feet out from under three people in all of her excitement, the owner of the tree farm included. Robert had very quickly picked a large tree after that while Elizabeth took Gretel back to the car. Elizabeth still had no idea how Robert planned to get the tree home when the only vehicle they brought was his Jag. He showed up roughly 15 minutes later, towing a rather large tree, and it took all of her willpower to not make a height joke. In fact, Robert had thought how to get the tree home through, and in the trunk of the car, he had packing blankets and tie-downs. In an effort to get them off the lot quicker, the owner helped Robert put the tree on the roof of the car, strapping it down through the open windows.

They got the tree in the house in time for a late lunch, electing to spend the afternoon decorating the house and tree. Robert had gone all out to Elizabeth's delight, even putting up lights on the outside of the house. The staircase and mantel were decked with garland, the tree shimmering with tinsel, and the house had never felt more a home. Curled up on the couch in front of the fire that evening, Robert talked excitedly about his favorite Christmas traditions growing up. To his shock, Elizabeth didn't know about one of his favorites.

"Robert, what is a s'more?"

It was the first time he ever looked at her to question her intelligence. Who didn't know what a s'more was? "You know what a s'more is." The blank look on Elizabeth's face suggested otherwise. "Ok, maybe they call it something different in England, but it's graham crackers, toasted marshmallows, and chocolate." Still nothing. "Lizzy. This is serious. _You've never had a s'more_?"

"Sorry. Marshmallows are for hot cocoa."

He stood up quickly, displacing Elizabeth from her spot nestled in his arms, and headed to the kitchen. About five minutes later, he returned with a box of graham crackers, bars of chocolate, and a packet of marshmallows. He tossed them on the couch and tended to the fire, getting the logs' embers just right to roast the marshmallows.

"So first we're going to roast the marshmallows. You can't just catch them on fire; you've got to get them golden, which takes indirect heat from embers, _not flames_. Then you get you graham cracker and break it in half. One side gets chocolate and then the marshmallows, and then you top it with the other half of the graham cracker. Think you can manage?" Robert handed Elizabeth a metal coat hanger that had bed bent straight with a marshmallow on it.

The concept had seemed easy enough until Elizabeth managed to catch her marshmallow on fire. Instinct took over, and she shook it, trying to set the fire out and instead sent the flaming treat flying to the hardwood floor. Robert managed to put out the small flames before any damage could be done, and Gretel came in for the kill, gobbling up the dropped snack the moment it wasn't alight. Elizabeth lost her fire privileges temporarily until Robert felt she had learned proper s'more techniques.

Robert ended up making the first s'more for her, watching as her face lit up with delight upon taking the first bite. It was gooey and messy, and she loved it.

Licking her fingers clean of the sticky treat, she smiled at him. "I've definitely been missing out. You're going to have to make me another of those. How much chocolate did you buy?"

"I'll make you another, but only if you pay me."

"Pay you?"

"Mhmm. You heard me, Corday. This is a carefully honed skill, and I expect payment." He had a look in his eye that she recognized, beckoning her to take the bait.

"And ah, what _exactly is the payment_?" Elizabeth leaned in closer, dropping her voice low and soft.

"A kiss per s'more." Robert leaned in, following suit, and looked at her expectantly.

Licking the remaining chocolate from her lips, she replied, "I think I can manage that", and then closed the gap between them.

He loved kissing her. Soft and inviting, Elizabeth was always eager to wrap her arms around his waist and melt into him. It took very little on Robert's part to get her going, and they quickly found themselves on the rug in front of the fire, more concerned with consuming each other than the forgotten s'mores.

* * *

The remaining weeks until Christmas flew by quicker than Robert would have cared for, but as the holiday approached, Elizabeth's excitement at seeing her family grew more contagious to the point where Robert was even looking forward to the impending visit.

The plan was for the Corday/Cameron clan to fly in on Wednesday and then use Thursday to recover. With Elizabeth working a late-night shift on Friday, she and Robert would spend the morning and afternoon with her family before sending them off to a Christmas party with Charles Cameron. Robert would spend some time on Christmas Eve with his mother before Lizzy would get home sometime around 4 am. Cara had volunteered to come over mid-morning on Christmas and help Robert play host whilst Elizabeth caught some much-needed sleep before a full day cooking for Christmas dinner. After that, Robert didn't really care what the plan was. The big meal would be out of the way, and hopefully, by that point, any issues Mr. Corday had with him would be hashed out.

Wednesday morning was heralded in by Gretel, who could tell that something was different in the house. Elizabeth's excitement had reached a tipping point the night before, when Robert was sure she would never fall asleep. So bright and early Wednesday morning before the alarm went off, Gretel made a rare attempt to climb in the bed for a morning cuddle. At about 65 pounds, she was no longer the adorable puppy Robert could carry around if needed and attempted to take up room next to Elizabeth that Robert had claimed for himself. Gretel believed that Robert and Elizabeth's initial displeasure at being woken up could be solved with good morning kisses of the slobbery nature.

"Gretel! That's my hair, not my face. It's going to be frizzy enough as it is."

"At least you've got her face! She's practically sitting on mine. Gretel, get off!"

Having sufficiently woken her people, Gretel jumped off the bed and waited expectantly for them to follow for breakfast. Looking at the alarm, Robert swore. It was only four am. They didn't need to be up till five that day, but clearly, Gretel had other plans.

"Ok, Ok. Lizzy, I'm going to take her out. Can you get the coffee going?"

A disgruntled noise came from Elizabeth that he knew to be the equivalent of an early morning; yes, upon which hearing Gretel bounced from the room and down the stairs. Robert grabbed his robe and dutifully followed, grumbling the entire way about the Bouvier being lucky she was so cute.

To the delight of Robert and Elizabeth, the rest of their morning went smoothly. They had a procedure scheduled together for that morning and then managed to grab a quick lunch together before settling in to tackle their admin. Three o'clock rolled around quickly, much to the staffs' delight. Elizabeth had become far too antsy for even Robert's likening, and he was happy to be able to tell her to leave.

"Lizzy, you're like a five-year-old on a sugar high; just go already. You stopped being productive an hour ago."

"Robert, you're the one with the sweet tooth, so you've described yourself, not me."

"Whatever, you're driving the staff crazy. Go pick up your family; I'll see you at home." She gave him a brilliant smile and kissed him as she slipped out of her office, practically skipping as she went down the halls. Robert shook his head; she was so happy that he knew he would happily endure the visit from Elizabeth's father just to see her smile.

* * *

Pacing like made, Elizabeth waited at the gate in arrivals for the plane to pull up to the bridge way. The connecting flight from New York had been a puddle jumper, doing multiple commutes a day between the two cities. Frequent fliers and businessmen made the trip routinely, and somewhere amongst the crowd of people deboarding the plane, her family was mixed in. When she finally spotted her father, Elizabeth almost bowled over two other passengers to get to him. The hug that resulted from the separation of father and daughter was a long and overjoyed one. When they finally pulled apart, they had identical smiles, so delighted to see each other.

"Hello, darling. Oh, how I've missed my girl."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

AN: As usual, I own nothing. Except for several bottles of single malt. Some quotes are taken from Season 6, Episode 9. There are several songs mentioned in this chapter and I don't own them either. Please see the footnotes for who wrote what. Easter eggs are also listed in the footnotes for you eagle-eyed readers. As a heads up, my latest work project is wrapping up, and I'll probably be traveling home next weekend. Long overdue, so there's a chance that I'll take a weekend off from posting. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy.

* * *

There was a stillness to the house as Robert awoke, and somehow it seemed wrong to his pre-coffee brain. A brief glance at the clock told him it was four am, so why he thought there was something wrong with a quiet house was beyond him. Lizzie was asleep, curled up into his side with her face hidden behind her mane of curls. Robert loved to watch her in the mornings before she woke, grateful for the fact that she was there with him.

His Lizzie. Lizzie. _Lizzie's family_.

Robert let out a silent swear as he realized why something seemed off. Elizabeth's family was down the hall, and Robert had expected them to be up and about from jet lag by now. As his brain started to wake up, he made the decision to get up and put the coffee on. Surely someone would be waking up shortly and wander into his kitchen; at the very least, it would be Lizzie waking up and needing a healthy dose of caffeine.

The light in the kitchen was on, and Robert said a quick prayer hoping it was a Cameron and not a Corday that he was about to face in a coffee deficit.

"Good morning Robert." The voice that greeted him was with a Scottish accent softened from years living in London. Dark blue eyes met his over a cup of tea that was held by delicate feminine hands. Helena Cameron was up before the sun and had made herself at home in the kitchen, a kettle resting on the stove and the paper on the counter. Gretel was even at her feet, half asleep and ignoring Robert's entrance.

"Mrs. Cameron. I see you've made yourself at home." He passed over the kettle and went straight for the bag of coffee beans, setting to work on grinding them for his coffee.

"I did; my goddaughter lives here after all. And I told you last night to call me Helena."

"Well, that was last night when I had plied you with food and drink. It's early morning, and I won't tempt fate that you might not be a morning person." That earned him a smile, and she conceded his point.

"Elizabeth did say you were intelligent, and even Charles can't deny that since he hired you."

"Yes, but he will never admit it."

"Not sober, he won't."

Robert snorted into his coffee, sober or sloshed; he couldn't picture Mr. Corday saying anything good about him. Robert had to acknowledge, though, he did run off with the boss's daughter and convinced her to move to another country. He supposed Mr. Corday had a sixth sense where Elizabeth was concerned and probably knew from looking at Robert that he was far too interested in her to be just an average colleague.

"You don't believe me. Charles liked you when he hired you, and then you went and got on with Elizabeth. All of his other surgeons had been either too afraid of him to do so or just didn't like a female surgeon in the ranks to bother with her. Although I suppose it didn't help that he caught you having drinks with her."

"I didn't know she was his daughter, didn't even know he had a daughter. She certainly didn't tell me her name when I met her."

Robert thought back fondly on the night he met Elizabeth; it had been a Friday evening, and he had spent the past few hours filling out employment paperwork and getting a tour of the hospital. Simmons, one of the surgical consultants as they were called, had told him that on Fridays, the surgeons liked to meet at a cigar bar. Gave him a time and address to meet the rest of the staff there, and Robert took him at his word. Robert found out the hard way that it was a proper club and guest passes weren't for sale on Fridays. He was left standing in the foyer of a high-end club looking like an idiot while he knew his new colleagues were inside having a good laugh at the American. Pissed that this was the tone set by the surgical department, he stormed out into the streets only to run right into someone.

His first instinct had been to tell off whomever he ran into, and when he got a look at the person in his arms, it took all his willpower to make the words "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there" come out of his mouth. Vivid blue eyes were giving him a once over, and a teasing smile adorned her face. She was all curves, down to the titian curls adorning her head. A remark of 'It's got to be a bad day if cigars and whisky didn't fix your mood.' She had known instantly that he intended to bless her out for running into him. All Robert could do was stammer out something about asshole coworkers setting him up on his first day with them.

The eyes started to sparkle in amusement, and Robert was far too caught up in them to remove his arms from around her waist. They had made their way there when he almost knocked her over, and she hadn't seemed to mind yet. She teased him by suggesting he could always buy her a drink to get back at the slick gits. Robert didn't understand how Simmons and the rest would know, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Agreeing, he went to walk away from the club, expecting her to follow when she pulled him towards the very door he had just stormed out of. She was a member and could bring a guest.

All he knew was that her name was Elizabeth and that she too had her share of slick gits for coworkers, so she was always thrilled at getting back at similar types. They spent a glorious half hour at the bar drinking and smoking, talking about everything but work when Robert finally saw his boss walk in.

Mr. Corday scanned the room and saw Simmons and the group, chatting away and occasionally looking in Robert's direction before turning his attention to Robert. He didn't know the man well enough to recognize anger on Corday's face yet, so Robert didn't know to be worried when his Chief of Staff and Chief of Surgery approached him. Elizabeth, or Lizzie as he had started to call her, caught Corday approaching out of the corner of her eye and let out a started, 'Daddy! What are you doing here?'. Robert nearly choked on his martini. It went downhill from there with Mr. Corday questioning him on why he was having drinks with his daughter, and Elizabeth recoiled back from Robert upon learning he was the new surgeon her father had hired.

Explaining the debacle with Simmons was the only saving grace Robert had with Mr. Corday, who couldn't exactly fault him for not knowing he had a daughter, who was a surgeon at the hospital no less. A very clear threat of join the group of surgeons and don't drink with Elizabeth outside of that group ever again was delivered. The damage, however, was done, Robert and Elizabeth had bonded, and by the end of the night, he was smitten. A beautiful woman who enjoyed causing his kind of trouble and far more intelligent than he could have ever hoped to meet. Finding out she was a surgeon was the cherry on top that he found the most attractive, though.

Mr. Corday was always watching him after that. The more he worked with Elizabeth, the more smitten Robert became. He couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss her or be her surgical partner. Eventually, Robert had decided both would be heaven, but that had proven to be easier said than done.

Helena brought him out of his trance with a smirk. Somehow the woman knew that Robert was thinking back on how he met Elizabeth. He couldn't be bothered, though, choosing instead to make Gretel her breakfast. Helena continued to read through the paper, ignoring him until Elizabeth appeared in the kitchen, looking frazzled and in search of caffeine.

According to the morning banter between Elizabeth and her godmother, the men in the family had taken sleeping pills. Helena suggested that they needed more beauty rest than most, and Robert knew he would like her from that comment alone. As much as he was enjoying Helena's snide remarks, he was happy when it was time to leave for work. They left Elizabeth's car behind along with a set of spare keys and wished Helena the best with the snoozing surgeons.

* * *

Thursday had sailed by with much success on Robert's part, even when it came to dealing with Charles Corday. The surgical duo of Corday and Cameron didn't know how to function on holiday when there was a hospital to observe and had followed Robert and Elizabeth to work at one point. Robert couldn't even blame them, their pride and joy was the Associate Chief of Surgery, and they wanted to see her in action. Even Helena, who had seemed amusingly indifferent to all things medical, had wanted to observe Elizabeth in her prime. Helena had also made the jab at Andrew for not being high up enough in his career to manage the time off for the holidays. Elizabeth had been slightly grumpy that Andrew had so little control of his schedule to miss the Christmas Stateside, but Malcolm had reminded her that Isabelle couldn't make it either. Instead, Isabelle had planned a lovely Christmas affair with Andrew, and they were determined to make the most of it.

Thursday rolled into Friday with minimal protest, and Robert went into work briefly to deal with any left-over admin. Elizabeth knew it was to really avoid her father. When noon rolled around, Robert couldn't ignore the fact that all of his work was prepped for his holiday absence and that Elizabeth easily had the department covered until their full return in the middle of next week.

That's where the drama started for Elizabeth. _Dean fucking Rollings_. Never before had Elizabeth encountered a patient that she detested as much as she did this man. It started with chest pains. Rollings had faked them to get her attention and grabbed hold of her hand in the process. Elizabeth was concerned that she would never be able to wash it clean after that. She wished she had let him die. The man was the scum of the earth, and it made her skin crawl to have to treat him.

In an attempt to get as far away from Rollings as possible, Elizabeth went to the main desk hoping for something to keep her occupied. Peter was there, having agreed to cover the transplant service that night in exchange for Christmas morning off to spend with Reese.

"Well, at least someone will be enjoying the holidays."

"What I thought you had plans with your family."

"I do, but Robert and my father don't get on, and my godparents like to cause mischief. Andrew couldn't get the time off, so there's no one to help play buffer that's on my side." Peter was sniggering as she walked away from the board.

"Yeah. I vividly remember your father not liking Romano. And you left them alone together tonight?"

"No. Charles Cameron at Rush extended an invite to a holiday party that he and his parents are going to. And his father and my godfather are cousins; so they're off getting sloshed and catching up. Robert is spending the evening with his mum before all hell breaks loose tomorrow."

Shirley interrupted them with a phone call from the Detective in the Rollings case. A catch twenty-two if there was one. The police had found evidence linking him to another murder. Whilst Elizabeth was happy that Rollings was no longer off the hook, she disliked the manner in which it came about. She would, however, take absolute glee in informing Rollings that he was going back to the jail ward. He thought it was a joke. She was thrilled until he tried to grab her, and she needed to restrain him. He started to fake another episode, and Elizabeth walked off, claiming, "And I'm the Queen of England." Unfortunately, he wasn't faking it this time. She just wanted him to shut up and go to hell—happy Bloody Christmas.

A blockage in the left femoral artery and he didn't want the surgery. Rollings crossed a line with Elizabeth that night. "Good drugs, food's not half bad, and I get off just looking at you." Elizabeth had been used to men making lewd remarks at her, but there was something different about a known rapist and murdered saying something like that to her. She wanted nothing more than to wash her hands of this man. And he just wouldn't stop talking about his fantasies about her. If he wouldn't sign off on surgery, she didn't care if he would die of his complications. Not after the disgusting comments, he had made towards her. Elizabeth had been dreaming about a slip of the scalpel and wanted to never see the man again.

The scrub room was the last place she should have been vocalizing her distaste for the man, though. Anspaugh had somehow managed to get sucked into a late-night surgery and, as an elder statesman, question her on who made her the judge and jury. Easier said than done when it came from a male surgeon, though. The sexual harassment was far less, and Elizabeth was well past done with the comments that made her feel like she was someone's prey. But for Peter, Elizabeth couldn't help but agree with Donald's advice. Damn the man for being level headed and pragmatic, it was the last thing she wanted to hear.

* * *

It was midnight when the phone rang, and Robert was hoping it was Elizabeth saying she was coming home early. Instead, it was Ms. Knight, the fourth year mead student, and he tuned her out instantly before asking if she had lost her mind by calling him. A sharp disconnect of the phone made poor Lucy very aware of how Robert felt with being called at home.

Mr. Corday and the Camerons had made it home sometime around eleven and had been starting to wind down for the night. They had spent an enjoyable evening out of the house that had left them in such a good mood that even Mr. Corday was being nice to him. Robert knew that wouldn't last long and that they'd probably be at odds again come morning.

Robert headed to bed, thinking about what the morning had in store for them. Lizzie would get home at a stupid god awful hour and then try to sleep for a bit. Sometime around eleven his mother was headed over to help with brunch and then it would be a day of food and celebrations.

Sleep was not something that Robert seemed able to accomplish, though. He awoke to the sound of banging on the front door. The whole house was stirring from it, and Gretel had started barking her displeasure. Looking at the clock, he saw it was almost two am. He decided whoever it was at the door needed to die a slow and painful death.

The banging persisted as he made his way down the stairs and to the door to the foyer. Gretel had accompanied him, and he was considering letting the person at the door have the full Gretel treatment but instead thought better of it.

"Okay, Okay, you can stop now! You got my attention!" Standing on the front steps was Lucy Knight.

"Before you say anything, I've thought of at least a dozen reasons why I shouldn't be doing this. Ah, not the least of which is ruining my career." She looked like she was regretting showing up at his door. Robert was tempted to send her away in tears for disturbing the house at that time of night

"Well, I'd love to hear the others, but since the police are on their way-" Robert went to shut the door in her face when Ms. Knight interrupted him.

"I have a patient, Valeri Page, twenty for years old, dying of Cardiomyopathy. She's on the UNOCS list, but an L VAT could buy her valuable time."

It was late, he was grumpy, and Robert could hear movement in the rest of the house. "What makes you think I give a rat's ass." The barb landed perfectly, judging by the look on her face.

"I'm sorry, what was I thinking, coming to you a seasoned doctor who supposedly had dedicated his entire life to helping people. While I'm just a puny medical student who was stupid enough to think that she could actually make a"

"Ms. Knight."

The house had in fact woken up at this point and had ventured forth to see what's going on.

"Romano, what's going on? Who's here at this time of night? There's nothing wrong with Elizabeth?" Mr. Corday had appeared beside him wrapped in a dressing gown, and Malcolm Cameron wasn't far behind him.

"Ms. Knight is a mead student who has yet to explain why she is banging on my door at two am. Ms. Knight, as you can see, I do actually have Christmas plans that involve Elizabeth's family, whom you've very kindly woken up. So what is it you want? We're all dying to know."

He had to give Lucy Knight credit; she was made of sterner stuff than he had thought, staring down three grown men in the wee hours of the morning. Nervous as could be, she held her ground, having realized a long time ago that Robert rewarded people who had a backbone.

"I want you to help my patient. I want you to help me."

"Romano, what is she on about?"

Looking at Mr. Corday, Robert got an idea. "Ms. Knight, did Dr. Corday ever mention that her father is a world-renowned Cardiothoracic Surgeon? I'm sure he can easily implant the L VAT, and I can get some sleep."

The L VAT caught Charles Corday's attention, and Robert found himself explaining that he was currently the only surgeon at County qualified for the procedure. It turned out that the L VAT had yet to make its way to England; thus, Mr. Corday had only read about it. So that's how Robert, Lucy Knight, Charles Corday, and Malcolm Cameron ended up at County General in the wee hours of the morning. Helena had stayed behind, muttering rude comments about male surgeons under her breath, and went back to bed.

It was the oddest surgical procedure Robert had performed in a while. He was being assisted by a mead student and one of the most highly respected cardiothoracic surgeons in the world, and he was teaching them how to implant an L VAT at three in the morning. That wasn't taking into account the overly curious neurosurgeon lurking in the background, too interested in new tech to have gone back to sleep. So just for the hell of it, Robert paged Benton to OR Three; it was his patient after all.

"Well, it's nice to see that when the cats away, the mouse still jumps." The sniggering from the Brits told Robert that they were very much going to enjoy this.

"What's going on?"

"Just teaching Ms. Knight and Mr. Corday the finer points of an L VAT implantation. You know, for now on, I think I'm _only_ going to do favors for people who come begging at my doorstep. Which leads me to ask Peter, _why wasn't it you?"_

"I never even considered it."

"Well, Dr. Benton, that's not too surprising. It is Romano, after all, the prospect of _going to his lair_ to ask for help seems above and beyond the call of duty." Mr. Corday quipped.

"Well, it's a good thing that Lizzie happens to like it there because _you're_ not the Corday I care about pleasing." It was three am, and Robert was determined that if Mr. Corday was going to act petulant that he would beat him at his own game. Just like he was doing with cardiothoracic surgery at the moment.

"Dr. Romano, I just want to tell you how much I appreciate you doing this." Lucy attempted to break the tension by sucking up. Robert appreciated it, but she was out of her league with the rude Englishman and his snigger Scottish enabler in the room.

"Well, that will be all, Peter."

"I'd like to scrub in."

"I'm sorry, Peter, you didn't earn this one."

"I'd still like to help."

"I don't know, Peter. Are you sure your ego can handle having to assist yet another Corday and a mead student?" Malcolm Cameron started laughing in the background, and Robert could tell that behind the surgical mask, Charles Corday was smirking. "What do you think, Ms. Knight?"

They finished up the procedure just as Lizzie was finishing her shift. There was a smugness about her, having watched Robert and her father work side by side. She didn't even want to ask how they were going to explain that the Corday operating in OR Three was not the Corday licensed to practice medicine in America. That was a worry for another day, though, one she doubted would be a real issue with her father's sterling career. She, however, was very close to murdering her patient, something the hospital would definitely take issue with.

Walking into Robert's office, she found the chairs taken up by her father and godfather. Robert was seated behind his desk, and the three men looked tired and ready to go home. Since no one was standing to offer her their seat, Elizabeth walked around the desk and sat down in Robert's lap, resting her head against his chest.

"I am done treating Dean Rollings. I want nothing more than to slip up in surgery and for him to die a slow and painful death." She felt Robert's arms tighten around her and the men in the chairs looked startled at her confession.

"Elizabeth." She knew the tone of voice Robert was taking with her, the stop causing trouble tone. "I know the man is distasteful, to say the least, but we're doctors. We took an oath to help people."

"He is a rapist and a murderer. _I'm done with him_."

"Elizabeth, we don't get to pick and choose who we help and who we ignore." Robert's tone was moving from don't cause trouble to pissy, and Elizabeth had no desire to deal with it after her long day. She stood and walked towards the door, ignoring his comment of don't be like that.

"Darling, I can't believe I'm saying this but, Romano is right. You can't just pick and choose patients." Charles regretted opening his mouth after his daughter shot him a look.

"Fine. You want to sit here in your little boys' club, go right ahead. But _the doctor is in_ , and it's certainly not going to be me."

Robert closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Whittaker had made them come up with a phrase to point out when one of them was overstepping the other at work. They had decided on _the doctor is in_ and agreed that it was to be used when the situation was dangerously close to causing a large argument. Whatever had happened today, Robert knew that Elizabeth was being serious.

Corday and Cameron were looking back and forth between them, trying to decipher the obviously coded message. The energy between Robert and Elizabeth having changed drastically the moment she uttered the phrase.

"Do I even want to know what happened for you to hit this point?"

"Let's put it this way; it would be a contest between you, my father, and godfather to see who could get out of the room quickest to commit cold-blooded murder."

"I'm sorry, _who_ is this man you're talking about?"

"Daddy, you really don't want to know."

"Actually, I think I do."

"Well, he's a rapist and murderer; use your imagination."

"Rollings, you said?" Cameron was up and out of the office before anyone could comprehend what was happening, and Elizabeth's father wasn't far behind him. Robert got up as well and walked towards Elizabeth, pulling her into a hug.

"I'll deal with him from now on. But first, I've got to decide if I'm stopping those two or helping them."

"Well, considering Rollings has told me he gets off every night thinking about me and wants to hear that I care about him as a woman, I think you might enjoy helping them. And that's the least of what he's said tonight."

That was all Robert needed to be out the door and chasing after the Brits, finally catching up with them outside of Recovery, where he found Shirley holding her own on keeping the incensed men out of the room. Shirley, who had been promised Christmas Eve off and was grumpy enough as it was. Robert had to talk everyone off the ledge, but he managed to calm the two men down and offered them along with Shirley a dram or two of scotch before leaving. Shirley watched as Robert poured the scotch before taking the bottle from him and walking out the door. She was officially off shift and was going home. The three surgeons looked at each other and laughed; OR nurses were the same everywhere and not to be messed with. Elizabeth had finally reappeared after they finished their drams, having changed back into her street clothes and announcing she was ready to leave. It had been a long night.

They had gotten home at almost seven and had promptly aimed for the stairs, intent on catching a few hours of sleep before festivities for the day started. Elizabeth was out like a light; she hadn't even bothered to change out of her clothes and instead curled up on top of the duvet. Robert curled up beside her, hoping to ignore the world until his mother arrived at eleven.

* * *

They had slept too late. Elizabeth knew that by the fact that someone had opened the bedroom door and let Gretel in to wake them. Judging by the laughter coming from the door, it was probably Helena.

"Wake up, sleepyhead; the rest of us are up and swapping embarrassing stories of your childhoods." Definitely Helena. And that meant that Cara had arrived as well. Elizabeth got up and finally managed to get into pajamas, determined to be as comfortable as possible for as long as possible, and with minimal grumbling, Robert followed suit.

It was nearly eleven, and Cara had indeed arrived; Elizabeth found her and her Auntie Helena in the kitchen, throwing together a quick breakfast and making coffee. Her father and godfather were camped out in the lounge with Gretel, knowing better than to get in Helena's way in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Auntie. Good morning Cara." Elizabeth sat down at the island, and Helena poured a cup of tea for her and smiled bemusedly at the stage of her hair.

"Did you manage any sleep, dear, or shall we go straight to coffee?"

"I slept fine until _you_ let Gretel in. That was mean considering I worked all night."

"Yes, well, that mead student of yours woke the whole house up last night, and your foolish men were quite happy to get dressed and go tinker with fancy surgical tech at all hours of the night. I made Malcolm sleep on the couch instead of waking me up when you lot finally got in."

Elizabeth smiled at her godmother's antics. Helena highly valued sleep and was the crankiest person Elizabeth knew if she was awoken before she got her 8 hours. Poor Lucy knight didn't know the true danger that lurked behind the door when she had come knocking that night. Cara was laughing while tending to the bacon, voicing her approval of the sleeping arrangements when Robert walked in the kitchen.

"Oh good, Rob, you're finally up. We'll have breakfast ready shortly; perhaps you should have some coffee and attempt to be a person since you've got company." Robert and Elizabeth exchanged looks. They had only been concerned with Gwen and Andrew's meeting, never realizing that Cara and Helena would get along far too easily. The only appropriate response from Robert was to walk over to his mother and kiss her on the cheek before making coffee for himself, and Elizabeth whose tea was almost gone.

It was a simple breakfast of bacon, eggs, cinnamon rolls, and copious amounts of coffee for the surgeons. Helena and Cara had bonded over being the 'lone sane people' in the group or non-surgeons as the offended masses preferred. After breakfast had been consumed, they moved into the lounge where Gretel was sprawled in front of the fire, fast asleep with her Christmas bone.

A pot of mulled wine had been going in the slow cooker all morning and glasses of the warm brew were passed around as they settled in for a small gift exchange. Robert watched as the Cordays and Camerons got comfortable, and he realized they were all wearing a variation of the same hand-knit sweater, courtesy of Helena. A symbol of the family Elizabeth had grown up in, Robert felt a little jealous of the standing traditions that tied Elizabeth to them. Pulling her closer, Robert dwelt on traditions he wanted to start with Elizabeth, things that families did together. She elbowed him, drawing Robert out of his trance, and he looked down to see a rather lumpy looking Christmas present deposited into his lap.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

Robert was never one to resist a Christmas present, particularly one wrapped in little holiday rockets; Lizzie really had gone all out with that. The first rip of paper revealed something soft, blue, and knitted. The second rip confirmed his suspicions that it was indeed a sweater. A rich navy blue wool, decorated with little bumps and ridges in some design he was too excited to pay attention to. Looking back and forth between Elizabeth and the sweater, he lit up with a smile that she returned, and he kissed her.

"I thought if I made you your own, you'd stop coveting mine." She laughed.

"When did you have time to make this?"

"Those nights, I stayed at mine or downtime in my office. I haven't knit a sweater in ages, so I'm crossing my fingers that it will fit."

He was already pulling it on, ignoring the pained expression from Mr. Corday, the disapproving look from Helena, and the amused smirk from Mr. Cameron. Somewhere in the background, Cara was glancing between Robert and Elizabeth and Elizabeth's family with a smug look on her face.

"Elizabeth, what did you put on that guernsey? That's certainly not a pattern I taught you." Helena had finally spoken up, and Robert was confused at the displeased tone she used. They had been getting along fine up until now.

"Auntie, I know what you're thinking, and I don't believe in that silly rule. And it's a rocket."

Helena rolled her eyes in response, and Cara chimed in as Robert got up to find a mirror. "That rule is only for women silly enough to think that if a man smiles at them, then it means he's serious about her. Or women who can't knit."

The sweater was a traditional guernsey from the welt to the band of garter stitches about a third of the way up, complete with R. "R." R in the lower corner. From the garter band and up, however, Elizabeth had replaced her godmother's traditional pattern of purl bumps with a cleverly executed design that formed a purl stitch rocket instead. There was even a smaller rocket on each sleeve. It fit a little on the snug side, with just enough room to layer beneath it. Robert loved it and came back into the lounge, grinning. "What rule?" he asked upon sitting back down.

"It's supposed to be bad luck to knit a man who isn't kin a sweater. It ends the relationship." Cara gave Robert a knowing look as she answered him, and he chose to ignore her as Elizabeth passed out the rest of the gifts. He had already given his mother her gift on Christmas Eve; a long weekend booked at a spa and dinner reservations for the two of them when she got back. With two children raised and out of the house, Cara enjoyed being pampered from time to time to 'fight back all the grey's that her obnoxious children gave her.' Robert was happy to indulge his mother, and she had made it easy by dropping hints for several weeks.

To his pleasant surprise, he watched Lizzie pass his mother a gift as she handed her family small packages as well. Not knowing Robert very well, her family had offered to do up stockings, which were easy enough considering the transatlantic flight. Robert's stocking contained several packages of M & M's along with a bottle of Laphroaig Cairdeas, which he was informed was Gaelic for friendship. Laphroaig made it in small batches yearly, and he took it as an overall good signal from Elizabeth's family.

Elizabeth had apparently been busy knitting and had managed to make several cable knit hats and scarves for his mother and her godmother. Mr. Cameron, who at this point had rolled his eyes at Mr. Corday and was insisting Robert call him Malcolm, had gotten a growler of a locally brewed beer that Elizabeth swore up and down reminded her of something they would drink together in Edinburgh. Robert had gotten the Camerons tickets to an exhibit recently opened at the Museum of Contemporary Art, figuring that was a safe bet with Helena being a painter. He got a kiss on the cheek as a thank you from her and a good-natured grumble about how she'll be dragging home a painting or three from Malcolm.

It was Mr. Corday's set of gifts that Robert was most interested in. Elizabeth and her father had a tradition of exchanging books, and this year Elizabeth had deviated slightly. With some heckling of Andrew, she had managed to have several shoeboxes full of pictures sent to her and put them together in a photo album. They were all of her and her father, with the occasional interloper thrown into the mix. Thousands of miles were not enough to weaken the father-daughter bond, and upon seeing Mr. Corday going through the album, Robert felt like the interloper. He had been at odds with the man for several years over Elizabeth and, for the first time, was privy to the full strength of that bond. Elizabeth had left his side to go and sit next to her father, and he pulled her into a silent hug, not letting her go for several minutes. The rest of the company had the good graces to look away, busying themselves with topping off drinks and paying attention to Gretel, who had stirred from her nap.

Robert looked at his mother, and keenly felt the absence of his own father, who had passed several years earlier of a stroke. It was believed to have been brought on by years of smoke inhalation on the job—the hazards of being a fireman. Watching the bond between father and daughter, while missing his own made Robert long to one day have a bond like that with a child he shared with Elizabeth. It also made Robert less irritated with Mr. Corday for all the grief the man had given him for stealing away Elizabeth.

When Elizabeth finally came back to her original spot on the couch, Robert was happy for the small gift he had gotten Mr. Corday. It would bring a much-needed levity to the room after the previous emotional gift.

" _What the bloody hell is this Romano_?!"

Charles Corday sat there in shock as he held the rectangular box in his hands, the bright yellow background and red letters a dead giveaway to all. Robert had bought the highly respected surgeon Operation.

The first to crack was Malcolm, who was practically falling out of his chair in laughter, and Helena soon followed, unable to keep a straight face.

"Romano, you," Malcolm managed between laughs, "are alright in my book." He got up, moving towards the couch and said, "Slainte" before clinking glasses with Robert, Charles Corday glaring at his best friend the entire time muttering 'don't you dare Malcolm.' It was ignored. Malcolm liked having one over on his friend far too much to ignore a good joke when presented to him.

"Stop being a grouch; you love this game. The number of times we'd show up for a visit and you, your father, and Elizabeth were in the study hunched over the board. And in scrubs no less!" Malcolm proceeded to take not just the board game out of Corday's hand but the photo album as well, flipping through it until he found a picture of the scene he had just described. Three generations of Corday surgeons all in scrubs and hovering over the game. "We're playing this, and I'm going to kick your arse from here to Inverness."

"Oh please, as if you ever could." Even Charles Corday couldn't stay grumpy when faced with evidence that it had been a favorite pastime to play the game with his daughter. "Shall we bet on it?"

" _No._ There will be no betting in my house with any Cordays. It's just not happening. I got warned about that, _by Simmons_ no less."

"Fine." Mr. Corday had remembered Robert existed and turned to face him. "How about a shot a buzzer?"

" _How about we let Elizabeth open her gifts before you boys go and get sloshed_?" Helena was attempting to resume her place as the voice of reason. The comment still held Mr. Corday's attention, though, curious as to what Robert might have gotten her.

Robert was suddenly very thankful that he had not taken Gwen's advice of putting the engagement ring under the tree. Instead, he dutifully passed her the few parcels sitting at her feet. The first was from her godparents, a small but lovely oil painting of her childhood home that Helena had done, and Malcolm had made a frame for. A beautiful three-story townhouse that Charles and Isabelle had lucked into and renovated over the years as they became more prosperous. The book from her father was as equally sentimental as the photo album. A series of leather-bound journals that were her grandfather's handwritten medical notes, complete with details about surgical procedures he had helped to advance. They would find a loving home in her office, where she could display them proudly. The card merely said, 'he would be proud of you.'

There was far too much interest in what Robert had gotten for Elizabeth, and he momentarily wished he had gotten something less personal for her to open in front of her family. But in for a penny in for a pound, Robert sat and watched as Elizabeth opened a slim, bound booklet. The confusion was evident on her face as she flipped through the booklet at first.

"Robert, this is ah sheet music. I haven't read music in years.." trailing off, Elizabeth looked back and forth between Robert and the music.

"Penny in the air," he muttered softly.

"Robert. _Did you_?"

"And the penny drops." Robert smiled at Elizabeth a she kept looking back and forth between the sheet music and himself. He thought she was about to lean in for a kiss when instead, she was up and out of the room. The rest of the room's occupants were looking around in confusion, having not conned onto what was going on. It was only when Elizabeth returned from the study with his guitar and asked him to play it with such an adoring look that the realization grasped hold of them. It would be so easy to turn down the request to play the song with Mr. Corday glaring in the background, but Robert had always struggled with telling Elizabeth no when she looked at him like that.

Robert let out a heavy sigh whilst taking the guitar from her hands. "Are you sure you can't wait till your family leaves?" He knew the answer and was already giving the guitar a once over to make sure it was still in tune. Lizzie was sitting back down on the couch, her look very clearly stating stop procrastinating.

Knowing there was no way to get out of playing the song he had written for Elizabeth, Robert began to play, the soft strumming of the guitar filling the room, his voice soon joining in.

"Is it okay if I call you mine?

Just for a time

And I will be just fine

If I know that you know that I'm wanting

Needing your love

If I ask of you is it all right

If I ask you to hold me tight

Through a cold dark night

Cause there may be a cloudy day in sight

And I need to let you know that I might

Be needing your love

And what I'm trying to say isn't really new

It's just the things that happen to me

When I'm reminded of you

Like when I hear your name

Or see a place that you've been

Or see a picture of your grin

Or pass a house that you've been in

One time or another

It sets off something in me I can't explain

And I can't wait to see you again

Oh, babe, I love your love

And what I'm trying to say isn't really new

It's just the things that happen to me

When I'm reminded of you"

The look of love on Elizabeth's face was so plainly on display that no one could deny how she felt about Robert. The smile on her face was breathtaking, and Robert believed she could eclipse the sun. "Robert, it's beautiful. Thank you, my love." She pulled him in for a kiss, setting aside the guitar and practically climbing in his lap. He held her close, whispering, "I love you, Lizzie," into her ear.

They were politely ignored for a few minutes until Helena broke the silence, commenting on Robert's lovely singing voice and asking where he learned to play and sing. Cara, being a music teacher, had taught him, and soon the conversation had turned to music. Both Camerons played and sang, whilst both the Cordays had merely dabbled. Another round of mulled wine poured, and somehow Robert had been convinced to open the piano for a round of carols. By the time Cara and Robert had made it through a few rounds at the piano, it was time to head to the kitchen to cook dinner.

* * *

Yet again, Robert had kicked Elizabeth out of the kitchen, preferring his mother's help in prepping the meal and giving Lizzie some time with her family. A good thing too, as his mother was poking him with the proverbial stick wanting to know why he hadn't proposed yet. Unfortunately, from Robert's point of view, Helena chose to walk in at that very moment.

"You know when Andrew came back from his visit, he had this look about him, and I just knew that you wanted to marry my goddaughter."

Robert froze, having no idea how to deal with the situation that was about to unfold. Cara, however, knew exactly what to say.

"Robert asked for my ring, and I happily gave it to him."

"Happy marriage?"

"We were very blessed."

"Then it's a good ring. Andrew had only good things to say about you, Robert, and while my son is a trouble maker, he's very protective of Lizbeth. If he had no issue to report back, then you must have made a good impression on him. To the best of my knowledge, she's never told a man she loves him before. So if you're waiting on some sign that she's properly serious about you before you propose, I do believe you've had it."

A smile started to form on Robert's face at Helena's words. "She's never?"

"Never once. And you wonder why Charles has disliked you for so long. He didn't want to acknowledge that he hired a surgeon that could be perfect for his daughter. Not when the surgeon was an American with no intent of staying in England permanently. Can I see the ring?"

Robert looked around, trying to determine if it was safe to do so. He had been carrying it around for weeks, trying to suss out when the perfect time was.

"Oh, don't worry. Those lot are hunched over that damn game. A stroke of genius that was. Did Elizabeth tell you they used to play it?"

"No," Robert said, pulling out the ring box. "I thought it was fitting, considering he deemed my surgical skills unworthy to work with her when I left England."

A single solitary in a simple yet elegant setting sat nestled in the box. There was nothing fancy nor ostentatious about it, just an elegance that reflected the woman who had worn it for decades and the woman that Robert hoped would wear it for decades to come.

"It's beautiful." Helena crossed the room to Cara, embracing her and placing a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you for blessing them with this beautiful gift. May it be a long and prosperous marriage." The kettle was blowing steam, and Helena stepped away, tending to the pot and prepping the tea to take through to the next room. "Ask her, Robert." She said, leaving the room. "She won't say no."

The afternoon had flown by, with plenty of mulled wine, rounds of operation, stories told, and occasionally carols. Robert had even been dragged into a round of the game against Mr. Corday, who was taking the game rather seriously. The original suggestion of a shot a buzz was taken up, and somewhere between the mulled wine and the creative swearing when they finally struck the buzzer, the two opposing surgeons were starting to relax around each other. Robert ended up losing best two out of three when the phone rang, his charming sister Gwen being on the other line. She loved nothing more than to take the mick out of her brother, cackling the entire call when she learned she'd made him lose at operation. Robert finally gave up at her call and went back into the kitchen to take the call and help his mother with dinner.

A dinner that was a success with prime rib with all the trimmings and several bottles of Caymus for the table. Mr. Corday had packed several Christmas crackers that had the traditional hat and joke, but instead of a silly plastic prize, each held a small tipple. After being pressed over several drinks to answer where he got the crackers, Mr. Corday finally admitted that Mrs. Corday's newest TA made them for extra holiday money and that Isabelle had sent them along as a thinking of you sort of gift. The kicker was Isabelle had made the tipple. She had been the one to teach Elizabeth how to brew mead as a teenager and still occasionally made a rather strong batch herself. Consequently, the table was sipping on a delightful mead as their digestif. Desert had been pushed off till well after dinner, everyone claiming to be far too full to think of eating another bit, no matter how delicious.

Sending the family through to the lounge with the remainder of their mead, Robert and Elizabeth set about clearing the table. They were enjoying the relative peace and quiet of the kitchen, happy to have a few moments alone, considering they had rather boisterous house guests.

"Well, that went over rather well. A wonderful meal, good conversation, no one threatened with a steak knife."

All Lizzie got was a snort. Robert knew full well that her father was only so agreeable because he was full of good food and drink. That and her godparents had been keeping him in check throughout the evening.

Speaking of her godparents, Robert paused in his task of clearing plate as the stereo came to life with the sound of The Proclaimers. Between Elizabeth and Andrew's love of the Scottish duo, Robert had heard his fair share of their music over the last few months. Several songs went by as Robert and Elizabeth did the dishes, and Robert could tell that either Malcolm or Helena had put on Elizabeth's mix cd of The Proclaimers. Several voices throughout the house had been raised in song to music from This Is The Story, Sunshine on Leith, and Hit the Highway. Robert was familiar enough with the music to even join in from time to time, reveling in the fact that there was this level of comfort with Elizabeth and her family in his home.

She was at the sink, washing the dishes as he put away the food, singing along to "I'm on My Way," with Robert watching her, his heart full of happiness. It was such a simple domestic thing, singing at the sink whilst doing dishes, and it spoke volumes of how comfortable Elizabeth was there.

The song changed, and the upbeat sounds of a guitar and drums permeated the house. It was a popular song, with Malcolm cheering at its arrival in the other room. The whole house was singing along.

"We've been going together

Too long to be vague

When there's something to say

If it's not now then it's never

So I'll say it straight out

'Cause I have no doubt, no doubt

Let's get married

I love you and I want to stay with you

Let's get married

Have kids and grow old and grey with you

Let's get married

Hold hands, walk in the park

Let's get married"

Malcolm's baritone voice was loud and crisp in the other room, serenading his wife. Andrew had shared that his father loved to sing this song to his mother when she was cross with him and that Helena could never resist it.

"We know other people

Who drifted apart

Who broke each other's hearts

But we ain't other people

So we'll do things our way

We're gonna be okay

We're gonna be more than okay."

Something about the lyrics was pulling at Robert's heart. He and Elizabeth had been through so much to get to where they were at, and the idea that they couldn't manage through whatever obstacle was thrown at them was laughable. And there she was, singing along and swishing her hips oblivious to him watching her with love in his eyes.

"Let's get married

We're ready for tying the knot

Let's get married

Set the seal on the feelings we've got

Let's get married

We can make each other happy or we can make each other blue

Let's get married

Yeah, it's just a piece of paper, but it says, "I love you."

For the good times

For the days when we can do no wrong

For the bad times

For the moments when we think we can't go on

For the family

For the lives of the children that we've planned

Let's get married

C'mon darlin', please take my hand"

Placing his hands in his pockets, Robert felt the smooth velvet of the ring box. He had been carrying it around for weeks trying to find the right moment, the right words, and just hadn't. And yet here and now felt so perfect, just doing the domestics and being at home with each other, with the right words being sung in the background.

"And I'll be the one

Who's by your side

Yeah and I'll be the one

Still taking pride"

Sneaking up behind her, Robert wrapped one arm around Elizabeth's waist, leaning in close to sing in her ear.

"When we're old if they ask me,

"How do you define success?"

I'll say, "You meet a woman and you

You fall in love and you

You ask her if

She says, 'Yes.

Ask her if she says yes'"

Robert brought his free hand around her waist, holding out the opened ring box for Elizabeth to see. He felt the sharp intake of breath as she realized that he wasn't just singing along with the music but actually asking her if she'd say yes. There was a hitch in her voice as she inhaled before turning to him and singing.

"Let's get married

I love you and I want to stay with you

Let's get married

Have kids and grow old and grey with you

Let's get married

Hold hands when we walk in the park"

Tears were rolling down her cheeks, the most radiant smile Robert had ever seen adorning her face, all while she nodded yes.

"Let's get married

All right, you can get a cat, just as long as it barks

For the good times

For the days when we can do no wrong

For the bad times

For the moments when we think we can't go on

For the family

For the lives of the children that we've planned

Let's get married

C'mon darlin', please take my hand

C'mon darlin', please take my hand

C'mon darlin', please take my hand"

The ring fit perfectly.

* * *

AN: All songs are by the Proclaimers except for "Is it Okay if I Call You Mine?", which was written by Paul McCrane. The easter egg is Operation, which my Cordano brain plucked from The American Patient by Rocketlover. I picture Robert playing an ovation guitar in this because I love them and always wanted one.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

AN: Home from my work trip, and this took a while to get back writing. Consequently Rockerlover suggested I work on something else and now I've got another Cordano story work on. Look for that soon. As usual I own nothing and some quotes are from season six, episode twelve.

There had been shouts, cheers, and even swearing when Robert and Elizabeth had finally left the kitchen a newly engaged couple. Champagne had been opened, desert brought out, and in general, a celebration took place. Robert had no doubts that his mother and Elizabeth's godparents were happy for her, but Mr. Corday seemed to be in shock more than anything. He had been warming up to Robert certainly, but nowhere near enough to handle an engagement announcement. One very late phone call was placed to London, where Isabelle Corday was still up and drinking with Andrew and friends. Needless to say, they were happy for any reason to continue on with their holiday festivities and pour more bubbly. An even more terrifying phone call had been placed to Gwen that lasted all of five seconds. Just long enough for Gwen to answer the phone and Robert to shout 'We're engaged' before hanging up. The phone got disconnected after that to prevent the horribly embarrassing phone calls that Robert knew Gwen would place in return.

Boxing day included celebrations with Max and Jo, who were equally ecstatic at the news. Jo was giddy at the prospect of going dress shopping, whilst making snide remarks that she would have to live vicariously through Elizabeth since Max seemed allergic to marriage. As enjoyable as it was to celebrate with friends and family, Robert was happy when Christmas festivities were over, and there was peace and quiet in the house again.

The return to work had been dreadful. With just days in between Christmas and New Year's, Robert had wished their holiday extended until January. Unfortunately, being Chief of Staff could not save Robert or Elizabeth from returning to work and face the masses. Nor did their positions in power protect them from the scrutiny of returning to work newly engaged. The gossip mill had started up shortly after their return, and a Christmas engagement was a bet that no one had thought to place. Shirley cackled for a good half hour when she heard the news, thrilled for the pair that they had not only gotten engaged but had managed to do so under the radar. The other end of the spectrum was Kerry Weaver, who had muttered 'God help us all' and promptly declared she wanted to be as far away as possible when their 'unholy union took place.' Robert managed to maneuver her into a week of night shifts when Jacey told him that remark.

As thrilling as it was to be engaged, Robert had been pleased when Elizabeth suggested staying in for New Year's Eve, the perfect time to reflect on how far they had come in a year and everything they wanted to accomplish going forward. The past Christmas had been disastrous. With Robert being despondent, there would never be a chance for even a friendship with Elizabeth, and Elizabeth feeling homesick whilst at the lowest point in her career. Yet somehow, several whiskeys over dinner at a gala had set them on a course to bring them together. The difference a year could make was astounding to both of them.

The initial glow of the engagement naturally dimmed, though, as the holidays passed and the trials and tribulations of work caught up to them, for Elizabeth, that meant that Dean Rollings reared his ugly head again. She arrived at work the week after New Year's to find Robert waiting on her, the Detective from the Rollings cases ensconced in his office wanting to speak to her. Another case had come up. Jenny Cardova had been missing for six weeks, and her abandoned car had Rollings prints all over it. They hadn't found the body yet.

"And you want me to ask him where it is." The disgusted tone in her voice left Robert and the Detective no room for doubt on where she stood with the matter.

"Lizzie, for better or worse, you've developed a relationship with him." A disbelieving look was sent Robert's way; Elizabeth was having none of it. She had told him once before she was done dealing with Rollings, and she was cross that he would bring this up. "Look, you talked him into telling you where the other body was; you talked him into having the surgery. This family needs your help."

Her face turned cold as she looked back at Robert, anger lacing into her voice. "He's a cold-blooded son of a bitch; I don't think he'll tell me." Robert just kept staring at her in his infuriating way. "I'll ask." She whipped around to face the Detective. "But I can tell you now it's hopeless."

The buzzer sounded as the security door opened to the jailward. An unfortunate part about working at a county hospital was that a jailward was a thing. Across the room was the vial miscreant Dean Rollings, Elizabeth's purpose in the depressing ward. Picking up his chart, she ignored the man in the bed as she persuaded his progress. She did not care about the man in the bed. She gave him the briefest acknowledgment of good morning. He was in pain from the recovery process, and he refused to talk to her, electing to shout 'get her out of here' until she rolled her eyes and left.

As much as Elizabeth hoped that that would be the last of Rollings, a page from Robert shot that particular hope down. Detective Cruson had been unable to persuade Rollings to spill his guts, and Elizabeth was not surprised as Robert told her this. Following him down the hall, she rolled her eyes; trying to reason with Rollings was madness. She shot Robert a glare when he suggested she try talking to Rollings again, reminding him that Rollings no longer wanted her as his doctor.

"Well, I think you should try to talk him out of that too."

"I don't want to ever talk to him again." They had reached the end of the hall, two double doors with visitor's waiting room stamped on them. She knew instantly who Robert had placed in the room. "The Cordovas."

Dean Rollings and the Cordovas were precisely who they ended up talking about with Dr. Whittaker that week. Elizabeth had resented her part in the whole affair and that she had essentially been ambushed by Robert outside the visitor's room. Was she glad that Rollings had eventually given up the location of the body? Certainly. Would she have rather been approached before Robert and the Detective brought the family in? Abso-bloody-lutely.

Whittaker sighed as he looked between two of his more stubborn patients. Or clients as Dr. Romano preferred. The news of the Corday-Romano engagement had not come as a surprise to Whittaker, considering how seriously they had been taking their sessions and working on their communication. The work issues that were brought up in the same session were clearly exasperating Elizabeth though, who had already called her fiancé out on the issue before. To that extent, the session was unproductive, with Elizabeth considering it to be a closed topic. When Whittaker tried to press on with the topic, Elizabeth changed it to an equally dangerous one. The location of the wedding.

"All I'm saying is, I haven't been back to London since I moved here. I've missed seeing my family and friends and frankly missed home."

"Chicago is your home Elizabeth. Our home." Robert bristled at the implication that gone could be somewhere without him. Somewhere thousands of miles away.

"Yes, Robert. Chicago is home now, but that doesn't change that part of what makes a place home, family, and friends, will always be across an ocean for me. I want to get married out of my father's house. I've got grandparents that can't fly, that I haven't seen. I don't think it's unreasonable to want to go back to my family that I am leaving behind, to get married." the discontented huff that Elizabeth let out spoke volumes. Robert knew that he had bungled the Dean Rollings issue and that Elizabeth wanted this as his penance. So be it. It was where they had met, after all.

The bigger and more imminent issue that Robert was concerned about was Isabelle Corday. Arriving at the beginning of February, Elizabeth's seemingly frosty mother was coming to stay with them. The closer they got to her arrival, the more apprehensive Elizabeth seemed to appear. Robert was feeling slightly out at having an extended house guest he'd never met before but also knew they would never hear the end of it if Mr. Corday had stayed and Mrs. Corday had not. Helena had very kindly told him what gin Isabelle drank, and Robert was prepared to have it well in stock for her.

Elizabeth was a wreck. It was a Monday morning, and even though there were clocks everywhere in the hospital, she kept looking at her watch as if she expected to see something different. Shirley did the kind thing and brought her a cup of tea, knowing full well that Madam Corday was arriving today. Shirley had requested the next few days off after all. She wasn't about to take one for the team after having to work Christmas Eve.

The University of Chicago had somehow gotten it in their heads to have Isabelle Corday come spend a few weeks giving lectures on some of her papers. And by gotten it in their heads, Robert suspected, based solely on stories about the woman, that Isabelle had rung them up informed hem that she would be coming and hey needed to book travel for her and set aside lecture halls.

For all of the self-importance that everyone implied Isabelle Corday had, Robert had to admit that the woman probably earned it. He was enjoying a break in between surgeries that was long enough for real food and had decided to read a few of Madam Corday's papers. Elizabeth most certainly did not get it all from her father. Robert fancied himself an intelligent man that had knowledge other hand surgery, and he found himself woefully unprepared to keep up with the science he was reading about. Sure he had taken physics at University, but this was at a very different level than he could easily comprehend. As fascinating as Robert thought it could be, all it did was make him worry that he was going to come off as an unintelligent American to his future mother in law.

Standing yet again in O'Hara international airport waiting on a parent to show, Elizabeth fidgeted with the ring on her left hand. There was absolutely no telling what sort of mood her mother would be in or if they'd manage to kill each other before her visit was over. Or worse, Robert might kill the both of them. She didn't have time to dwell on that, though, as the plane had stayed to deboard, and she began to look for the shock of curly red hair that would identify her mother.

"Mother!" The briefest hug followed before Isabelle handed off her values. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the greeting.

"Let me look at you, darling." Madam Corday was already making demands, yet enough time had passed since Elizabeth had last seen her mother that she couldn't help but smile at the strong and domineering personality. "You look well, clearly having a man suits you."

"Must I have a man to look well?"

An eye roll was the response. "Of course not, but it helps. Now, can we please get my luggage and go somewhere else? Preferably a place that has gin, or have the Americans banned that with tobacco."

"Come on then, Robert's making dinner."

Elizabeth Said a silent prayer to Saint Lawrence of Rome that whatever Robert had prepared for dinner was ready as she opened the front door. Praying that it tasted good was not necessary when it came to Robert's cooking.

Instead of Robert meeting them at the door to the vestibule, Elizabeth could hear Gretel's excited barks, and she was thankful for the doored off entryway to keep the bouvier off them as they got in the front door. A quick warning to her mother about the dog's size and Elizabeth opened the door into the house, an excited Gretel greeting them with slobbery kisses.

"Robert, we're home. Gretel down." Elizabeth stepped into the hallway, pulling her mother's suitcase as Isabelle greeted Gretel.

"You'd think he would be at the door to help with this massive but beautiful dog of his."

Elizabeth turned to see her mother crouched down, giving Gretel a belly run of all things.

"Well, I was a little busy making the dinner and drinks, but if you'd rather wait for your martini?" Robert had walked up while they were distracted, a gin martini in hand for her mother, who instantly forgave him.

"Oh, thank God, I'm parched from that flight. So you're the rude American that's marrying my daughter?"

"No, I'm just the live in butler. Your daughter's fiancé is in the middle of a very important surgery saving a life." The quick response was delivered with such a serious tone that Isabelle cracked a smile.

"Touché."

Somehow Robert and Isabelle had just become tentative friends.

It was a short evening, with Isabelle feeling jet-lagged and needing to get off to the university the next morning, and Robert had deemed it over all success. Isabelle had several martinis that went a long way to keeping her in a good mood and the meal had been well received. The good mood extended to compliments from Isabelle, who had assumed that Robert was behind Elizabeth's decision to get a 'proper car'. Robert thought Isabelle's desire to get along with him was driven to a degree by her ex-husband's dislike of him. Frankly, he didn't care if it was the gin or the joy of irritating her ex, Robert was just thrilled to have one future in law on his side.

The next morning Robert had gotten up and was unsurprised to find Gretel gone and the light on in the kitchen. Neither Gretel or Mada- Mrs. Corday had notice him standing silently in the door way. For all of Elizabeth's tendencies to take after he father, Robert saw in the rather unguarded moment that it was her mother that she took many of her mannerisms from.

If Robert hadn't just left a sleeping Lizzie upstairs, he would not know the red curls poking over top the paper did not belong to his goddess. The woman sat before him commanded the same energy, same posture, held the paper, and even held her tea the same way as the woman upstairs. And when Mrs. Corday finally set the paper down, acknowledging his presence, Robert noticed the same delicate flick of an eyebrow, questioning him on why he was interrupting her morning ritual. Exactly like his Lizzie. It was unnerving, having spent the past several years thinking that Elizabeth was just the female version of Mr. Corday. As much as Elizabeth adored her father and tried to emulate him, it was this woman seated before him that commanded the room, that Robert glimpsed Elizabeth the most in.

The silence was broken by Gretel's wine for attention, she wanted breakfast of her own. Isabelle tossed her a biscuit and shrugged her shoulders at Robert.

"Her treats were easy to find, her breakfast not so much. Tell me, do you drink tea in the morning like a civilized person, or do you go straight for the hard stuff?"

"I'm sure Lizzie will appreciate the pot you've made, but its lost on me in the mornings."

The precoffee admiration Robert had briefly held for Mrs. Corday disappeared as he realized that he did not need two versions of his decidedly not a morning person Lizzie under his roof. Or grumpy Lizzie. Or hungry, Lizzie. Or tired Lizzie. Or sarcastic Lizzie. Lizzie was a handful whom he loved dearly, but she was a handful none the less. What was worse, the realization had finally dawned on Robert, that with an extended house guest there would be no loud sex with Lizzie.

He reached for the coffee. It was going to be a long visit.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

* * *

The visit of Madam Corday had gone smoothly thus far. Her first few weeks were spent preoccupied with lecture and events planned by the university. Robert had very few interactions with his future mother in law, and they were almost always in the evenings when she had a martini and Gretel to focus on.

Gretel the traitor as far as Robert was concerned. Isabelle had turned out to be such a fan of Gretel, that three days into the visit Robert discovered that Gretel had taken to sleeping, not just in the guest room, but in the guest bed. Both Gretel and Isabelle were very much aware of the no dog on the furniture policy, and yet it was blatantly ignored. What's worse, was that no support came from Lizzie, who informed him that nights in the Corday household growing up were frequently spent curled up on the sofa, The Doctor the Corgi included. Robert's protests that a Corgi on the couch was very different than a Bouvier fell on deaf ears.

It was the Bouvier that held Robert's attention at the moment, though. Gretel's bed had been moved to in front of the fire, and Elizabeth was curled up next to her sound asleep. Isabelle was sitting on the couch with a cold cup of tea. It was six in the morning, and Robert had just gotten in. What a horrible fucking day. Terrible fucking week more like it.

Robert should have known that nothing good would come of the next week when he started his weekend in the hospital for a kidney stone. How. Fucking. Embarrassing. To keel over in the middle of the OR, while patching up a misdiagnosis your fiancée made. _Thanks, Elizabeth_. He could have been happily in his office and been sick in private, _but nooo_ , Lizzie had to miss an aortic graph rupture. Daughter of a cardiothoracic surgeon and she missed it. Robert was at least pleased that she stuck around throughout the night to give him a proper bedside manner. That and keep away the snickering subordinates. He got the good drugs, and a Lizzie curled up next to him in bed for all to see.

It just went to hell from there.

Robert and Elizabeth had awoken at five in the morning to Isabelle's panicked screams. Gretel was having seizures. After a terrifying trip to the emergency vet, Robert and Elizabeth had been told that the workup indicated insulinoma. A tumour. They could fix that. _Not_ the poodle surgeon. All it took was a look between the two of them to know that the poodle surgeon was coming nowhere near Gretel when they had a perfectly good OR twenty minutes away at the County. Happy fucking Valentine's day.

The surgery had been touch and go with several smart ass comments from the staff, Shirley included. Robert still hadn't forgiven Shirley for suggesting he was going through the change during the surgery he fell ill in. Traitor. She could work nights with Weaver if that's how she was going act. Elizabeth wasn't having any of it from the team either and decided to blatantly channel Isabelle when she said to the OR nurse, ‘God forbid any of your family need surgery, I'll be sure to take the day off and leave you with Edson and Carter for help. Now, will you please suction or _get out_.' The jokes stopped after that. 

Isabelle had even come by to see how the surgery went, revealing to Robert that Mr Corday once had to operate on Elizabeth's dog when he managed to eat half of a toy. Elizabeth had been off at school as whilst Charles and Isabella and been on the outs, they both knew Elizabeth would never forgive them if something happened to the beloved family pet.

Gretel's surgery also meant they had canceled their dinner plans. Isabelle had insisted that she could manage Gretel for a few hours, but both Robert and Elizabeth weren't keen on leaving her. They decided to stay a little late and smuggled out all the supplies they needed to take care of Gretel at home rather than go out to dinner. If only being at the hospital had made a difference that night.

Lucy was dead.

They had failed her.

Isabelle had realized he was stuck in place and rose from the couch, gently taking his elbow and maneuvering him to a seated position. It wasn't until he was sipping on the tea she passed him that he realized it was spiked. Bless the woman. He shouldn't be surprised considering she was the one who taught his Lizzie how to drink. A gentle softness was being wrapped around his shoulders, and Robert's brain processed that it was Isabelle placing the throw around him. Briefly, he forgot that the redheaded woman at next to him wasn't his mother and he gulped for air, trying and failing to hold back the overwhelming emotions inside him.

Lucy was dead.

Lucy was dead, and Carter was barely stable.

They had been stabbed.

Lucy was dead.

Carter was stable.

They had been stabbed.

Over and over the string of thoughts played through Robert's mind, helpless to shut them down. How could they have failed Lucy like that? He was Rocket Romano, and she was Elizabeth Corday, never had there been a surgical team like them before. Miracles seemed commonplace in the OR when they worked together. Yet when it mattered most, they couldn't save Lucy. Ambitious and driven Lucy Knight, who in so many ways, reminded him of _his Lizzie_. Brave enough to show up on the Chief of Staff's doorstep and demand his help while going behind a surgeon's back to do so.

Fuck.

A plate of food had been sat in his lap. Robert looked over to see Isabelle topping off his tea with another splash of scotch. A pint of ice cream was sitting next to it.

"This isn't the first time I've had to pick up the pieces when a surgeon has had a bad day."

"Bad, doesn't even begin to describe it."

"No, it doesn't. But I can't pretend to have the words to describe it without insulting the fact that _you experienced it and I didn't_."

Cherry Garcia ice cream. Not his favourite, but ice cream was ice cream in a time like this. The plate of food, however, was offensive.

"What in all your infinite wisdom made you think Cherry Garcia ice cream and Hawaiian pizza were a good combination for something like today?"

An eye roll was all the response Robert got, as his companion took on a faraway look. “It's Charles' favourite, and therefore Elizabeth's favourite after a horrible day. I've no idea how he found the combination, but it stuck. Elizabeth eventually picked up on it, and she would curl up on the couch next on him stealing bites of ice cream and pizza."

A smile threatened to form on Robert's face as he watched a sleeping Elizabeth. He loved hearing more about her childhood, and couldn't help but roll his eyes upon learning that she picked up her favourite comfort foods from her father. The hunger in him won out, and he took a bite of the pizza, surprised to find that he liked the sweet and savory combination the pineapple and ham provided. Robert was attempting to ignore the smug look on his future mother in law's face as he polished off the pizza and dug into the ice cream. It was another look that mother and daughter shared.

"Lucy. Lucy reminds me- _reminded me_ , of Elizabeth. Intelligent, ambitious, hard-working, not afraid to get her hands dirty to get what she wanted. Especially if it was to do what she thought was the right thing by the patient. Showed up here at two am on Christmas harassing me to perform a procedure on her patient. Went around the attending she was working with to get it done."

Isabelle laughed into her tea, gently shaking her head. "That last bit does sound like Elizabeth. She went round Charles frequently, often relying on the age-old adage of better to ask for forgiveness than permission."

"Yeah but the problem is, Lizzie never asks for forgiveness. She just does what she wants and expects you to keep up." A long pause and a glance at the woman curled up in front of the fire, and Robert sighed. "She's getting better at it. Telling me her plans before she does them. It's something we work at."

"Well, I never thought I'd see that day. She adores Charles but has no problem with going around him whenever she sees fit. I think that's how she got qualified on some mechanical arm thing. Forged his signature to go off to the training. E something."

The spiked tea held in his hand sloshed around as he shook with laughter. So that's how Lizzie got certified on the E SOP.

"I never heard that story. But it's an ongoing process to try and communicate better as a team. Or that's what the therapist says anyway." He regretted the words instantly. Part of his agreement to see Dr Whittaker was that those visit stayed private, no telling someone else without mutual agreement.

"I take it you weren't supposed to tell me that." Isabelle was politely not looking at him at the mention of Dr. Whittaker.

"No. And I'd appreciate it if you forgot I said that. We live and work together . . . sometimes it's hard to not bring the work issues home, and we have a referee on call for that."

There was a long silence between them, both content to sip on the spiked tea and watch Elizabeth as she slumbered next to Gretel.

"I'm glad.” It was said so quietly that Robert almost missed it. “That you've got a plan on how to manage it. It's hard when your proclivity to … be right all the time, to butt heads, outpaces your ability to communicate effectively. Charles and I have never seen her this happy." Robert turned sharply towards her at that, and it did not go unnoticed by Isabelle. " _Oh, yes_. He's been complaining about you for so long that it galled him to say it, but it's undeniable that the two of you are a good fit. That's probably why he's disliked you for so long."

" _Oh, goody_. Maybe one day the man will tolerate me."

"A London wedding will go a long way to that. And a granddaughter of course."

"Oh, I see what you’re trying to do. Lizzie told you to butter me up on the wedding bit." 

"But not the child bit?"

"I've already named them."

"Well, that's good to know." The dry sarcasm was accompanied by an eye roll. "You're not planning on knocking her up before the wedding, are you? We're going dress shopping this weekend and should plan for that if you are."

Dress shopping. Robert had no desire to go to something like that, but a deep-seated warmth finally overtook him at the thought of _his Lizzie_ in a wedding dress.

* * *

It had been a god awful week. Elizabeth had taken on the lion's share of Chief of Surgery duties whilst Robert was busy dealing with…bloody hell. Bloody hell was what he had been dealing with.

And yet somehow, Robert and her mother had bonded. Ish. Ish was good. Elizabeth suspected that it had more to do with the five gallons of Ben and Jerry's her mother had purchased than any deep and meaningful connection, but for now, she would take it.

The more pressing Romano/Corday relationship to deal with was looming in front of her, however. Elizabeth and Isabelle were in the lobby of a nondescript building, waiting on Robert's mother Cara to arrive. Today they were shopping for a wedding dress, having confirmed a July wedding in London. Cara had gotten along well with Elizabeth's father and godparents, but the idea of putting two strong-willed redheaded women in the same room made Elizabeth nervous. Rightly so if her relationship with Robert was anything to go by.

Thankfully she had invited back up, although that could blow up in her face as well. Jo and Carol had been invited as firmly Team Elizabeth opinions to counteract what Isabelle would like to see and what Cara might think Robert would like to see. Both women were, unfortunately running late. Carol, she could understand with having the twins, but Jo was usually ten minutes early. Cara, however, was prompt as always and so Elizabeth spent several minutes observing the two women stare each other down. It was her own mother that cracked first, something that shocked Elizabeth.

Until Isabelle opened her mouth that is.

"You've got such lovely hair, pity your son doesn't take after you."

Fuck.

"Well, he does get his hairline from his father, who may he Rest In Peace, always claimed the hairline was from his fire helmet. Tell me, what dye do you use on your hair? It looks lovely, almost natural."

Ouch. Point Cara.

To Elizabeth's shock, her mother just laughed.

"Yes, raising Elizabeth brought out the greys earlier than I would have liked."

"I've always viewed Robert's recording hairline as penance for all the greys he and his sister caused me."

And just like that the women were friends, comparing notes on their Terrors they called children and lamenting the lack of respect shown to them. Thankfully a member of the staff came by with a glass of champagne for the bride to be, and Elizabeth was thrilled that she opted for the nicer boutique. She had nearly downed her beverage when Carol and Jo arrived at the same time. Apparently, they had fought over a parking space. Down went the rest of the bubbly.

By the end of the day, Elizabeth regretted inviting anyone with her. Cara and Isabelle were getting along whilst Jo and Carol were trying to outdo each other in the friend department. What was worse, Elizabeth realized that she hadn't told Carol that they were planning a London wedding. Carol, who had been looking forward to a very adult weekend with Elizabeth's impending nuptials, had no idea how she would manage going to another country as a single mother. Elizabeth's own mother was not particularly helpful with her suggestion to just hire a nanny.

The snide remarks had only stopped when Elizabeth came out in the last dress. It had been the first time all week that Elizabeth had felt the warmth of happiness take hold in her, and as she stepped in front of the mirror, it was radiating off of her.

"That's it!" Jo had stopped bickering with Carol in order to elbow Isabelle into paying attention. " _That's the dress that's getting you laid."_

"Jo!"

A snort from Madam Corday was louder than Elizabeth's exclamation. "Jo dear, most people are far too drunk and tired to have sex on their wedding night. It's the lingerie one wears to bed that, as you so charmingly put it, _gets you laid the next morning."_ Even the dress consultant laughed at Isabelle's declaration. "There was so much alcohol, I think Charles and I drank London dry. A most excellent party."

"Madam Corday, you and I are going to be excellent friends."

" _What did you just call me?"_

Taking advantage of the newest round of bickering, Cara got up to stand behind Elizabeth, wrapping her arms around her in a hug. Leaning in close, Cara whispered "You look breathtaking. I'm so happy he's found you."

It had been a long and exhausting day, the group of women had eventually met Robert and Max for dinner after settling on a dress and the bickering that had presided over most of the day had mellowed out significantly with food and drink. Somewhere in between the first round of drinks being served and appetizers being brought out, Charles Cameron arrived.

"Sorry I'm late, I drew the short straw and had work today."

"Why do you look so irritatingly familiar?" Isabelle was eyeballing him over her martini, trying to determine how she knew him.

"Mrs. Corday! It's good to see you again."

Elizabeth and Robert had been trading glances at Charlie and Isabelle's interaction, trying not to snicker into their drinks as a look of horror settled onto Isabelle's face.

" _No. Not another Cameron_. I left you lot behind in London." She downed her martini and turned to face her daughter, who was doing a poor job of hiding her mirth. " _Elizabeth, why didn't you warn me that the irritating American Cameron was going to be here?"_

Charlie Cameron just stood there smiling, knowing it was safer to roll with the punches.

"Well, Mrs Corday that might be because she's marrying an irritating American and becoming an irritating American."

"Hmf. How very eloquent of you American Cameron."

"It's Charles, not American Cameron." Isabelle's lips curled at the name Charles. Petty is as petty does.

"Well then, _Charles,_ what is it you do for a living."

"I'm a Cardiothoracic surgeon."

The table erupted in laughter as Isabelle let out a drawn-out no before grabbing hold of the waiter and asking for the bottle of gin. According to her, being surrounded by _surgeons_ was classified as an emergency.

* * *

As enjoyable as the day had been, both Elizabeth and Robert were thrilled when it was over, and they could be curled up in bed. Settled in with a book, Robert enjoyed the warmth that a snuggled up Elizabeth was giving off. Absentmindedly stroking her hair as he read he felt her give off a heavy sigh.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"It feels … strange. To have done something happy today. I feel like it's almost too soon to continue with life and be happy about things."

A sigh of his own, Robert knew precisely how she felt. It hadn't even been a week since Lucy died and yet they had done something that was definitively getting on with their lives. Celebrating life. Their life together. Perhaps the Jewish had it right with sitting Shiva for a week.

"I feel like we failed her Robert. As if we could have done more, done a better job." 

Setting the book aside, Robert pulled her close and held her. "Lizzie honey, we did everything would could have. The only thing that could have helped us was more time. If they had been found sooner. Maybe if the OR was in the ER."

"What if it can be though. If we didn't have to wait for an OR to open or to schedule a surgery. If we had better facilities and more surgeons. An actual trauma surgery department. The Trauma Fellow at County has spent the last five years doing general surgery, and there's no senior Trauma Surgeon for him to learn from. We've got a lot we could improve on, and if we manage to get the funding to do it . . . we could make County a Level One Trauma Center."

"You've been thinking about this a while."

"I feel like there's more we could do as surgeons. As doctors."

The quiet of the room was overwhelming as Robert contemplated what she had said. Elizabeth was right, County could be a better hospital. When working as a team, Robert was confident that there was almost nothing that he and Elizabeth couldn't accomplish. Better Doctors. Better Surgeons. Better Educators. Better Administrators. Better Mentors. And better Facilities. They could do this. Together. For Lucy. For Carter. For all the people that came through their doors.

"It looks like we've got a lot of work to do then." A kiss to Lizzie's forehead and he felt her arms tightening around him. "I love you, Elizabeth."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

AN: Happy New Year! I was not gifted the rights to ER for Christmas, alas, so there's that.

* * *

The past few months had been an absolute whirlwind.

Isabelle's visit had ended with a dress purchased by Elizabeth and Gretel usurping Elizabeth's place as the favorite child. Elizabeth pointing out that she was Madam Corday's _only child_ seemed to make no difference, and Robert laughed unashamedly at the _hmpf_ noise that Isabelle made at that. Then the comment of "Yes, well now you've got _proper_ competition, and we can see who the clear winner is."

Traitorous Gretel just rolled over for a belly rub. She also mopped about for a week once Madam Corday left, taking to sleeping in the guest room and pouting upon realizing Isabelle was not inside. Thankful a little bit of steak in her bowl at dinner won Gretel back over to Team Rocket. Granny Isabelle was a novelty; Daddy Rocket was forever.

That didn't stop Robert from lamenting the fact that Gretel couldn't be the ring bearer for the wedding because it was in _London_ and bringing Gretel would involve quarantine for longer than they had time off for. Which was how he found himself tipping the porter handsomely for bringing all the bags up to their room at the Waldorf in London. A large suitcase each, carry on bags, and Robert's suit bag. Robert said a silent prayer at the fact that Lizzie had managed to ship her wedding dress to Isabelle's. Destination wedding his ass. Thankfully, they had flown first class, and Lizzie liked to fly. Well. Either she liked to fly, or she enjoyed the drinks they kept bringing her. She was going _home,_ after all.

Home. It was a word Robert had come to dislike in the lead up to the wedding. A rather large part of Elizabeth still felt as if London was home. Rationally, Robert knew that she had never meant to stay in America for more than a year. That she had meant to go back and see family and friends. That Elizabeth had intended to say proper goodbyes to her family instead of just a ' _see you at the holidays'_ that never came. She had been in America for three years now, and a part of her had dealt with that separation by firmly saying _London was home._ It was where Elizabeth's family was, after all. Robert couldn't blame her, having spent so much time out of the country himself; it was just how you dealt with it. It had been easier for him, as well. He had never once thought of staying abroad for more than his contract. Well, until he met Lizzie. Robert had never told anyone about the job offer he had lined up at another hospital in London. Charles Corday wasn't going to renew, and Robert was worried he wouldn't have enough time to convince Elizabeth to come with him. But he did, and the rest was history. With a few civil wars between them thrown in for good measure, but history none the less.

It had helped that Robert's immediate family was just his mom and sister. Elizabeth still had both parents, godparents, godbrother, and three out of four grandparents living. None of the grandparents so infirm that they couldn't keep you on your toes, but all old enough that a transatlantic flight just wasn't an option. The surgeon's wife, who had helped him win over grant after grant to better the hospital. And the parents of the astrophysicist, a Cambridge maths professor, and a grammar school teacher. Robert was going to have his hands full, living up to their expectations for their only granddaughter.

The red-eye to London had been a godsend, with a hefty fee to have access to the hotel room early. It had given Robert and Elizabeth time for short naps and showers before heading out to meet some of Elizabeth's family. Isabelle was done with classes for the summer and had arranged a late lunch with her side of the family. Robert couldn't help but be nervous, as these were people who produced the scary astrophysicist.

Who greeted them by asking, "How's my favorite girl?"

Elizabeth had been pleased to find her mother in such a good mood, responded with a large smile, and "I'm well, mother."

Robert had to control the laugh at Lizzie's disappointment when Isabelle corrected her.

"Oh, not you, dear, I mean Gretel. How is she? Has she recovered from her operation, back to chasing squirrels yet?"

Whilst Robert was halfway managing to hold in his laughter, the couple that was presumably Isabelle's parents were not.

"Honestly, darling, it's a wonder your daughter speaks to you at all if that's the way you greet her."

The man speaking had steel-grey hair and piercing blue eyes that glinted with intellect. This was not the look of one who's mind had dwindled with age but merely lost the filter attached to his mouth.

"Do forgive Isabelle; she adores dogs to the point where we thought for the first two months that Charles was the name of a springer spaniel she had adopted."

Robert knew as the man extended his hand that they would get along _perfectly_. "Alexander James. A pleasure to meet you."

A firm handshake as well. "Rocket Romano, I'm sure the pleasure will be all mine so long as you continue to tell stories about mistaking Mr. Corday for a pet dog."

"Yes, we've heard you don't get on with Charles."

" _Don't get on?_ That man wants nothing more than for me to end up on his operating table without anesthesia."

The woman to his left rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. Her once red curls had turned white with age, and yet she held herself with such presence that she commanded the room. A sharp elbow to Alexander's ribs made him remember his wife, who had gotten impatient waiting on him.

"Since my child and husband have forgotten their manners, let me remind them. I'm Robin, and unfortunately, Isabelle's mother."

Lizzie snickered; clearly, mother-daughter tiffs ran in the family, as did father-daughter bonds.

Robert was _really_ going to like the James family, and everything seemed to be going so well until Mrs. Corday crashed the lunch.

Daphne Corday was every bit as gregarious and charming as her son and granddaughter, with none of the dirty looks that her son Charles was so fond of throwing towards Robert. Mrs. James had apparently invited her without telling anyone. It seemed that whilst Charles and Isabelle and divorced rather _un amicably,_ the elder Cordays and James got along just fine. They had cocktail hour once a month to discuss all the ridiculous antics of their children. Daphne had apparently mentioned wanting to meet Robert _without_ her son around to determine for herself if Charles was just being pig-headed or if Robert really was as obnoxious as her son swore. Oh goody.

By the end of the afternoon, Robert had felt ganged up on, though Elizabeth had done her best to protect him from the worst of it. The endless questions and back and forth had reminded him of when his father was alive. Always a boisterous household with a similar back and forth to the Corday-James families. It was slowly starting to sink in that he was getting married this week, and his father wouldn't be there to stand up with him. Laying in bed that night, it was all Robert could think about, and it was almost morning before he fell asleep to the soothing rhythm of Lizzie rubbing his back.

* * *

Chaos had landed, and its name was Gwendolyn.

Elizabeth loved her soon to be sister in law, but she had secretly packed a flask of the good stuff to deal with the family dinner taking place that night at her father's house. Gwen and Andrew would be in the same room. Hell. Cara and Helena would be in the same room. _Cara_ and _Helena_ and _Isabelle_ would be in the same room. She took out the flask as she stood in front of her father's house and took a long swig before passing it to Robert. If they made it past this evening sober, not in jail, and not in the hospital, she would be pleased. Well. Relatively sober. _Both_ her parents would be under one roof, after all.

When the front door opened, revealing her father, Elizabeth felt tears of happiness start to form. It had been years since she had been there, and it was an overwhelming feeling going back to her childhood home to ceremonially leave it one last time. No longer the willful teenager or obstinate young woman looking to take on the world, she had returned as a woman very much in charge of her life and career with her equal by her side. Both father and daughter were so happy with the reunion that even Robert felt Mr. Corday's happiness bestowed upon him when he was greeted with a 'Hello Robert' instead of the usual tense 'Romano.'

Whilst they had arrived at her father's house early, Elizabeth's grandmother was already present and enjoying the hors d'oeuvres that the caterer had laid out. Isabelle and her parents arrived shortly after Elizabeth and Robert had finished downing their first drinks, and Elizabeth got the joy of introducing Robert to one of her favorite things. Her father trying in vain to catch her mother's attention via flirting.

Charles Corday had turned up the charm, greeting his ex-wife with a 'Hello Belle, beautiful as always.' A saucy smile and an 'I know' was all the reply he got before she sought out the bartender and then went off to greet her ex-mother in law with a fond hug.

Robert was having trouble concealing his mirth.

"Don't be so obvious in your laughter, least they notice." Elizabeth rolled her eyes and elbowed him for good measure, having seen this scenario play out before.

"Lizziieeee, you did not _warn me_ that your father still has the hots for your mother. This is way more entertaining than I thought the evening would be while still sober."

"Well, _of course,_ he finds her attractive. It's not as if women turn into ugly hags when they get a divorce. _Nor_ become imbeciles."

"Ok, ok. No need to elbow me again."

Elizabeth was stopped from doing just that when her worst nightmare came true, Andrew and the Cameron's walked in with all of Robert's family. Three guesses who were grinning like shit-eating pigs, and Elizabeth was sure three guesses would not be needed.

" _We are so fucked_." Was said in unison before all hell broke loose with the introductions.

There were now five women of red-headed persuasion in the room, each eyeing up the others. Daphne Corday and Helena Cameron stood by the bar betting on who would come out the alpha while Andrew was busy collecting the money for them. Robin finally broke the ice.

"Tell me, Isabelle, is this what it's like when Robert and Elizabeth enter the room together at work? A long pause while they try and determine who's in charge for that round?"

"Actually, I think it's on a first-come, first-serve basis."

The ice was broken, and laughter filled the room. Glasses of wine were passed around as Robert and Elizabeth made introductions and mingled. The majority of the evening went smoothly, with everyone seemingly being on their best behavior, something that neither Robert nor Elizabeth took at face value. They didn't trust Gwen and Andrew as far as they could throw them and Elizabeth suspected her godparents had bought them off somehow. That or Gwen was too busy trying to control her daughter, who had snuck a glass of Chardonnay and was giggling over the men in kilts. Whatever the reason, they were thankful for minimal plotting and embarrassing stories from their families and retired for the night, believing it was just the calm before the storm.

Eventually, members of the wedding party and various guests from America started to arrive in London. Max and Jo, being in the wedding party, were the first to arrive and promptly took the happy couple out to dinner and drink. They might have closed down the pub. They might have smoked cigars and passed a flask or three around while strolling the streets of London. They might have ducked into an alley or two when they thought they saw the police. No one remembered exactly what happened the next morning, just the general consensus that they wanted Excedrin and banana bags.

Robert's godparents were the next to arrive. Micheal and Lauren Connor. Old friends of Robert's parents from his father's early days as a fireman. With so little of his own family alive, it meant the world to Robert that they had left retirement in Louisiana to see him get married.

Several friends from the medical profession in Chicago started trickling in over the next few days, even Charlie Cameron and his parents. Two of Elizabeth's Chicago friends would be very last minute, though. Doug and Carol. Carol had abruptly left Chicago to raise her twins in Seattle with Doug, and while she still talked with Elizabeth regularly, Robert had been shocked to find that Carol had RSVP'd, and without the twins. Apparently, Doug and Carol needed an adult weekend away and were leaving the girls with Carol's mother.

All their Chicago friends arriving paled in comparison to the arrival of Elizabeth's friend Janine. On leave from Her Majesty's Royal Navy, even Andrew was nervous about the reunion between the two women. Robert had no memory of meeting the woman due to the copious amounts of alcohol that everyone consumed. Andrew was asking for a liver transplant, Max was lying halfway under the couch, Jo had barricaded herself in the en-suite bathroom, Charlie had gotten arrested, or so Robert thought, Robert was hiding under the covers hoping to die, all while Elizabeth and Janine were in the sitting area chugging water and drinking whisky. A loud groan came from Robert when he realized that the two women weren't just drinking whisky, but smoking Churchill's as well.

The cackling coming from their corner of the sitting area made him crawl out of bed in search of aspirin. The bangy head syndrome needed to go away quickly, and he hated the two women for being seemingly unaffected by the previous night's shenanigans.

"For the love of God, will the two of you be quiet? Some of us are trying to die from hangovers in peace."

The sailor snorted and blew a smoke ring in his face. His Lizzie just laughed until she fell off the couch. Served her right. She only managed to drag herself upright when there was a knock on the door, followed by the call of 'Room service.'

Elizabeth was up and to the door in an instant, only banging her hip on the odd bit of furniture once. Or maybe twice. Robert didn't know because he thought he was seeing double. All he knew was he could kiss the two Lizzie's as the _three_ carts of food were brought in. He hoped it was three carts. Whatever it was smelt delightful.

The evil sailor had disappeared while the carts of food were brought in and only reappeared when Elizabeth shut the door behind the waiters.

"Here you go Romano, I think this is what you're looking for." The tall glass of what was hopefully water was fizzing away.

"This better be Alka-Seltzer, or when I need a new liver, I'm removing yours."

"Fair dos. I promise we're not trying to kill your liver at this point."

The fizzing drink was bitter, and it held promises of sweet relief. Arms snaked around Robert's waist as he chugged the drink. Lizzie nuzzled into his neck from behind, her soft lips on his neck, helping him to relax a little.

"I ordered enough breakfast to feed an army." Another snort from the evil corner of the room. "Forgive me, _Navy."_

The cackling women from hell had indeed ordered enough food to feed the Navy. The Alka-Seltzer was kicking in enough that Robert was able to identify that there were, in fact, three carts of food. Primarily full of English fry ups, with a few stacks of pancakes and plates of fruit thrown in for good measure. There were two carafes of black coffee, and Robert reached for the closest one. Somewhere in the background, he heard who he thought was Andrew grown. A swift swear in another language confirmed it.

Lizzie and Janine were digging into their plates of food and a pot of tea before Robert could sit down, and Andrew managed to join them shortly after. The kilted man let out a low growl at the women and stole a rasher from each of their plates. In turn, they picked up their abandoned cigars and blew smoke rings in his face. Lizzie took the remaining whiskies on the table and dumped them into their teacups, tucking into a plate of food whilst Janine poured glasses of water and passed out the Alka-Seltzer.

Nearly an hour had passed before the food-laden cart were bare, with Max and Jo being the last to come to the makeshift breakfast tables. The coffee had disappeared some time ago, and Lizzie and her Maid of Honor were back to smoking like chimneys. The initial throbbing in Robert's skull had subsided for the moment, but he swore not to touch another drink until after he was married. He had no desire to be hungover or worse on his impending wedding day and was slightly worried that he'd still have a hangover at the rate he was going. It was only after all the food had been consumed that Robert remembered something had been nagging him.

"Hey guys, what happened to Cameron Number Two?"

Cameron Number Two, as Robert liked to call him, had been sacrificed to the police who had tried to round up the group for public intoxication the night before. Janine had been very insistent that they'd go easy on Charles for being American. Still, Robert suspected that she was more concerned with not being arrested while on leave from Her Majesty's Navy. She needed a duty scapegoat after-all. They finally found Charles having a late lunch with the Cameron clan, who had apparently bailed him out of the drunk tank. No charges had been filed thanks to a friendly officer recognizing the Cameron family tartan on the kilt Charles wore. The officer had previously been a patient of Malcolm Cameron and rang up the hospital wanting to know if Mr. Cameron had an American cousin. Helena had not been impressed with any of them. And there had been what Robert assumed was a stern lecture in Gaelic, but Robert was too busy stealing the bacon off of a random plate to know for sure.

Helena believed it would be a miracle if the lot of them were sober for the wedding rehearsal the next day, and Robert tended to agree with her. He was already contemplating putting himself on the UNOS list when they made it back to Chicago.

Somehow they did manage it though, come the rehearsal, the entire wedding party was sober and hangover free. Consisting of Janine, Jo, and Gwen standing up with Elizabeth and Max, Andrew, and David standing up with Robert, everyone was on their best behavior. It would be a simple ceremony, planned primarily with a wedding planner that Helena had found. Robert wanted the whole ceremony to be over as quickly as possible to get to the honeymoon but knew neither of their families would let them get away with that. Hell, marriage counseling with the Priest had even been required that morning. Father Octavian didn't take kindly to Lizzie's flippant remarks of 'we've already got a bloody counselor we see regularly, and he's got an M.D. behind his name.' The poor Priest was clearly used to Elizabeth because his response of 'say ten hail Mary's' was far too quick for the uninitiated.

Hours later, Elizabeth found herself curled up against her father on the couch in his study, nursing a nightcap. For the first time in longer than she could remember, her mother was there, occupying her favorite chair, martini in hand. The traditional approach of bad luck to see the bride was being taken, and Elizabeth had elected to stay the night at her father's.

"Darling, I can't believe you're getting married tomorrow. It seems like yesterday you just a little girl, curled up here with me reading you the charts I had brought home to review."

"Frankly, Elizabeth, I didn't think you'd _ever_ get married. You were always too fond of men who were pushovers and arm candy to actually take a relationship seriously."

She could feel her father shaking from laughter and stuck her elbow into his ribs for good measure.

"What? Romano's not exactly 'arm candy'" Charles applied air quotes and sarcasm to Isabelle's term, and in turn, Isabelle agreed with him.

"You know, mother; you wouldn't say that if you saw him without his shirt on. Scrubs _really_ don't do him justice. Nor have you seen the man's dimples. I'm thankful we wear masks in the OR, or I'd never be able to concentrate."

"Darling, we don't need to hear this. _I_ don't need to hear this, particularly about Romano."

" _Robert. His name is Robert."_ Father and daughter glared at each other, both trying to outdo the other. "Or you can always call him _Rocket_. That was how you introduced him to the staff _after you hired him_."

A huff from her father let Elizabeth know she had won that round.

"Well, that's one thing to be thankful for, I suppose, you've picked a man who's intelligent and has the ability to keep up with you. _Did it have to be an American, though_?" A whine had crept into Charles Corday's voice, and Isabelle laughed at him.

"Honestly, Charles, you're just cross that you liked the man when you hired him, and then he went and had the good sense to acknowledge your surgical daughter was a talented and intelligent surgeon. He picked the wrong Corday to impress in your books and succeeded in convincing Elizabeth he was the better surgeon to work with." A smug Madam Corday downed the remainder of her martinis, smirking at her ex-husband the entire time.

"Isn't it time you leave Belle? After all, you _moved out_ years ago."

"Ha, Bloody, Ha."

"Mother, by the time he gets over that, he'll just be mad at Robert for something else."

"Yes. Charles, _what are you going to do_ when it becomes the Romano Surgical Dynasty instead of the Corday Dynasty?"

A look of shock and horror settled onto his face as Charles Corday contemplated for the first time that his daughter would potentially be having children with Romano. Little surgical scrub wearing children who would be _Romanos_ instead of _Cordays._

"You're going to have at least two grandchildren if Robert has his way, so you better get used to the idea." Upon seeing her father's frozen face, Elizabeth decided to turn the screw a little tighter. "Don't worry, if we have a boy, I'll be sure to suggest Charles as a name."

Isabelle's roar of laughter was not enough to shake Charles from his bought of shock, and a finger or five of brandy was needed to revive the man enough to send him to bed.

Elizabeth woke early the next morning to find her mother making a pot of tea, clothed in stolen pajamas and robe from Charles's closet. She didn't get farther than a raised eyebrow before Isabelle cut her off.

"Not a word from you. It's an emotional day, and I wasn't going to miss any of it simply because you chose to stay with your father."

"I didn't think you could stand staying under the same roof as him for that long. That's all."

"As irritating as the man is, he's the father of my child, and for that, I shall always love him. We can manage to set things aside long enough to share the important moments with you."

A look of guilt crept across Elizabeth's face at being called out for thinking her mother incapable of temporary pax with her father. Isabelle let her daughter sit with her guilt before rolling her eyes.

"Perhaps we could have learned to manage that sooner, but better late than never in this case."

"And ah, just _how well_ did the two of you get on after I retired for the night?"

The tea towel was thrown in Elizabeth's face as a response, with laughter overtaking the two women uninterrupted by mother slaughter squabbles until Charles came downstairs.

"So Daddy, what _did_ the two of you stay up all night talking about?"

"I don't ask you how you spend your nights, so kindly do not ask me how I spend mine." was all the response Elizabeth got.

It was an emotional day in the Corday household. A luncheon was planned with the bridesmaids, and merriment soon took over after their arrival. The wedding was early evening, and the day was spent getting their hair done and listening to Charles and Isabelle's stories about Elizabeth growing up. Stories of Daphne making scrubs her five-year-old granddaughter who demanded to play surgeon with her father. Charles and Isabelle forgoing traditional bedtime stories for scientific journals and chart reviews. The calls from the boarding school, letting Mr. and Mrs. Corday know that their daughter was in trouble _again_. Elizabeth's first surgery, where she assisted both father and grandfather. At one point, Charles excused himself, with Isabelle following him shortly. Their little girl was grown and as happy as they were for her, they couldn't help but feel bereft at the hole she had made in their hearts.

* * *

Standing in the unfamiliar church, Robert was nervous. Guests were pouring in, and he was doing his best to smile and greet them. Malcolm had gently pulled him aside, taken a moment to straighten his tie, and pass him a flask long enough for a quick swig. A thump on his back with the remarks of 'you're going to be so very happy together. For as long as you both shall live.', before disappearing back into the crowd.

Robert found himself pacing the aisle when he came to a full stop at the front row, shocked at what occupied the pew. A black helmet, long worn dull from use, sat with its station number proudly on display. Behind it, a beautifully framed photo of his father, John Romano in dress uniform, propped against the oak encased American flag. A hand came to rest on Robert's shoulder, and his breath hitched, desperate to not cry before the ceremony even started. Robert's godfather was silent for a moment, allowing him to collect his thoughts.

"She called ya know. Asking questions about him. Called your mother as well. Wanted to know what we had of his to incorporate in the ceremony. How to honor the man who 'raised the man she loves.' You've picked a wonderful woman Robert, and he would be _so proud of you._ _We're all so proud of you."_

His Lizzie had done this. Knowing that she'd never get direct responses from him about his father, his Lizzie had arranged for the memory of his late father to be acknowledged and remembered. Robert turned away from the pew and faced the altar at the front of the church, for once not being bothered by an open display of faith and kneeling to pray. To thank god for this day, for Elizabeth, and a silent longing for the man who had raised him. By the time Robert stood, the church was full, and it was time for the ceremony to begin.

He could barely stand still as the processional started, with Max having to place a hand on his shoulder to steady him after the wedding party had made its way down the aisle. And then the music changed.

And he saw her.

Glowing with happiness, she was gliding towards him. A radiant smile on her face, the likes of which Robert had never seen before. His breath hitched as their eyes met, and only the whisper of ' _she comes to you, not the other way around_ ' from Max kept him from running down the aisle towards her. Never one for publicly displaying his emotions, Robert couldn't help but smile back at _his Lizzie._ His love for her proudly on display for all to see. When she finally reached him, Elizabeth eagerly left her father's side to wrap her arms around Robert in a tight embrace. An ' _I love you'_ whispered so softly that Robert almost missed it.

And then she was _His Elizabeth until death do they part._


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. This chapter goes to Rocketlover, who has become an excellent friend while writing this.

Epilogue

The large house was quiet for once, all of its occupants still slumbering away on a Saturday morning in October.

The Chicago weather was beginning to take on a crisp air, and the pains of missing summer vacation had subsided in the Romano children. Halloween would be upon them soon, and a predisposition to a sweet tooth was a hereditary trait in the Romano family.

A large head pushed open the door to the master bedroom and poked its head in. The dog huffed upon realizing her people were _still_ asleep. There was breakfast to make and walks to take. That’s what Saturdays are for. Two ginormous paws planted themselves on the top of the bed, whacking the side of the man’s head as he slept. Gwennie wanted dad to _get up_.

Robert Romano groaned as he felt the Bouvier's paw on his face and tried to roll away from it, only to be blocked by Lizzie curled up into his side. A very naked and cuddly Lizzie. Robert was thankful that they had passed the point of the kids running into their bedroom anytime they felt like it. Sometime when Grace was seven and John was five, Robert had insisted that the bedroom door be shut and _locked_. Children should be taught to knock. Now that both of the children were older and more aware of what sex was, they had no desire to ever step foot into their parents' room, and locking the door hand become unnecessary. The kids knocked, and the parents put on robes.

Unfortunately, they had grown out of the habit of locking the door, and Gwennie was clever. By the time she had gotten big enough to reach the door handle with her paws, she was opening doors intentionally. Thankfully, Angus, their male Bouvier had never picked up on that habit. Far too easy to get Gwennie to do his dirty work for him.

It had taken two dogs to come close to filling the holes in their hearts when Gretel had passed. The tumors that had caused her insulinoma had eventually come back when the munchkins were still small, and no matter how much Grace and John had begged, mummy and daddy could not fix their beloved friend. It had been years before Robert had been ready to bring another furry friend into the house, but here they were, with _two_ of them.

The big paw of Gwennie swung again, catching Robert’s head, and his groan was loud enough to wake Lizzie.

“Good morning, love.” Eye barely open, Lizzie slid her hand behind her husband’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

“The dogs want breakfast. Which means the kids are probably awake as well.”

“It is Saturday. We’ve probably stayed in bed too long as it is.”

Glancing at the alarm on the end table, Robert could see Elizabeth was correct. Nine am was sleeping in late when you had a house full with two kids and a dog for each of them. Weekends off were wonderful perks of being in charge, though, and both Robert and Elizabeth savored them. A silent signal passed between the two, and they both fought back the lull of Hypnos and climbed out of bed, donning enough clothing to face their children without embarrassment.

Headed downstairs, they passed the open doors of their children’s rooms, both empty, and the faint sounds of the tv from downstairs suggesting they had been up a while. The hallway was lined with pictures of their life together. Pictures from their wedding in London and subsequent honeymoon on the English canal system. Pictures of their children, small enough to still fit In their arms. Ballet lessons, football practice, karate dojos, trips to New York to see their Aunt and Uncle, trips to England to see their grandparents. Pictures of Grace and John in scrubs, young enough to still sit on their parents' shoulders outside an O.R. Pictures of Grace and John in scrubs old enough to be standing shoulder to shoulder with their parents in an O.R. 

Work had always been a point of contention when it came to raising their family. Grace had absolutely been an accident in the first year of their marriage, and neither Robert nor Elizabeth had planned for expanding their family that early. But they did, right in the middle of Elizabeth’s pursuit of funding to expand the E.R. and Surgical departments to sustain a full trauma surgery team.

There had been many sleepless nights, scheduling conflicts with the nanny, juggling of schedule, and long sessions with Dr. Whittaker to get them through it. It had taken roughly five years for some of Elizabeth’s projects to start to come to fruition, and that was right in some of the hardest years with two small children. Work had suffered at some points, but one parent was always home in the evenings. Eventually, with enough funding, it became that both parents were home in the evenings. With their eldest now sixteen, Lizzie was no longer the Associate Chief of surgery but the Chief of Trauma Surgery. With a more limited and specialized caseload, her schedule was easier to manage. Robert had hired an eager surgeon with no life to fill Lizzie’s shoes in surgery and was happy to turn off his pager every Friday at five. Johnson wanted the admin experience in order to run his own department one day, and Robert was happy to give it to him. Elizabeth had a senior surgeon in her department looking for a similar experience, and thus Robert and Elizabeth managed to have precious time with their children

Making their way through the house, Robert and Elizabeth found Grace in the kitchen, putting the kettle on for her mother. Her own cup was long empty of tea and had been replaced by the delightful coffee from the little Italian moke pot.

“You know if you keep drinking coffee, you’ll stunt your growth.”

Grace rolled her eyes at her father, she was used to him picking on her, and he knew she got her coffee addiction from him. “Oh really? What’s _your_ excuse then?”

Pouting at his daughter, Robert moved towards the counter that held the espresso machine that was firmly _off-limits_ to the munchkins; they had broken the last one by taking it apart to see how it worked and had bits left over when they rebuilt it. Naturally, they were important bits, and the once perfect and _expensive_ espresso machine was reduced to making coffee that would make the E.R. lounge proud; that is bland, scalding, and only vaguely brown.

Elizabeth pulled the kettle off its stand as it started to beep, enjoying the instant gratification of the electric kettle. Another thing they owned due to their curious children. John had tried to make mummy tea on his own one morning as a surprise and nearly burnt the house down. He also wasn’t allowed around Bunsen burners in chemistry class unsupervised either.

Robert watched his wife and daughter as he waited for the shots of espresso and enjoyed the sight before him. The same mass of unruly red curls made them almost identical from behind, and Robert knew John's hair would be the same if he ever let it grow out. John, who was coming in from the back porch, putting his empty mug on the counter eagerly awaiting more tea.

The silence in the kitchen was companionable, and no one in the family felt the need to break it as they went about meaning breakfast. They rotated out what they had for Saturday mornings, and today it was Lizzie’s pick of a fry up. Robert always treated the kitchen as another place to learn surgical skills and teamwork, hoping one of the munchkins would follow them into the OR for a career. Something that was starting to look more like a reality.

His little girl was not so little anymore, and Robert often had a hard time accepting this. He missed the precocious five-year-old that he played operation with. She’d liked it so much he made “bodies” out of playdough and other objects and would walk her and eventually her brother through all the different procedures mummy and daddy did at work. Both kids loved it. Loved it so much they went to school rolling their eyes and telling their teachers they were as useless as first-year med students. Oops.

Those games of operation had paid off, and with university applications being a year out, Grace had been giving medicine serious thought.

“Soooo. I got some school pamphlets in the mail last night. I was hoping we could visit some this year.”

The table was quiet, and Grace looked nervously between her parents.

“Oh. Where at?” The nervousness in Elizabeth’s voice was evident. Even though she had gone to boarding school at a young age and loved it, it tore at her heart to think of her daughter leaving. At one point, her father confided in her that he spent almost a month drunk, and her mother had been so horrible at work she had been put on suspension for making colleagues cry.

“Ones in Baltimore. The other London.”

“ _London_? Did your grandfather put you up to this?” Charles had eventually grown fond of his son in law, but Robert wouldn’t put it past him to convince his granddaughter to move to London out of spite. You took my daughter so I’ll take yours.

“ _Daddddddyyy_.” The word rolled off her tongue in a manner that only a teenager was capable of achieving. 

“Okay, okay. What schools?”

“John Hopkins–“

“Yes!” Robert interrupted his daughter, excited to hear his own alma mater named as a choice. One step closer to a second generation of Romanos in the medical field. Grace just rolled her eyes, clearly used to her father's antics.

“ _Andddd,_ London University.”

Robert was able to ignore the smug look Lizzie sent his way at the mention of her own university but was unable to ignore her swift kick under the table.

“I figured you both turned out well enough to give them a look. And for the record, grandfather wanted me to apply to _Oxford.”_

_“_ And I’m guessing my mother said Cambridge?” Any mention of Madam Corday had an 85% chance of eliciting an eye roll from Elizabeth, and this was no different.

“Well, they’re very different schools darling, what ah, what are you thinking of applying for?” Lizzie had asked the million-dollar question. Robert was holding his breath, and John was looking back and forth between his sister and parents, mouth hanging open and fork frozen halfway to it.

“Oh, you know, pre-med.” It was said with such an air of nonchalant that it was clear she could only be Robert’s daughter. The feigned disinterest was rolling off of her in waves. John finally missed his mouth, too busy watching his family and stabbing himself with the fork in the process.

“You know, that means one day _you’ll be as useless as a first-year med student.”_ Sarcasm ran strong in the Romano children, and though he was the youngest, John did not lack in it.

“I will _never_ be as useless as a first-year med student. It’s not like we didn’t get all the required reading as _bedtime stories._ Or learn surgery 101 with playdough sculptures.”

No one at the table could keep a straight face at that point. While Robert and Elizabeth had always attempted to foster their love of medicine upon their children, it was more often than not their children asking to spend time in an OR with them, a love of blood and guts seemingly in their DNA at this point.

“We can plan a trip to Baltimore after you take the SATs next week. There’s no sense in visiting if you don’t make their score bracket. I don’t think we can swing London until summer at the earliest, though.” Robert was sick of the SAT’s, and his daughter hadn’t even taken them yet. She’d started a prep course and had been actively studying all summer in order to take them for the _first time_ in the fall. There would probably be a second test come spring or maybe even _next fall,_ but Robert was hoping she’d be well into early admissions at that point. Early admission, which meant essays, something that had always fallen to Robert to help with. There had been one too many phone calls with teachers over the years that revolved around, _yes, that is a perfectly correct spelling of the word_ when Lizzie had been the one dealing with grammar and writing.

Food had been finished, and the two teenagers had started clearing the table in anticipation of the day. It had been an unspoken rule in the house for many years that Saturdays were for fun, and while the munchkins, as Robert so fondly thought of them, hand plans with their own friends more often than not, the mornings were always spent together. No work would darken their doorstep on the weekends, something that ironically they had worked very hard to achieve.

County General had grown from its under-budgeted and underdeveloped roots into a teaching hospital to be proud of. As Chief of Staff, Robert dragged the whole hospital into a new age of higher standards backed by funds he’d spent many long hours to raise. At one point, he’d even been named Chicago Man of the Year for his efforts, something his children had teased him about mercilessly. His efforts had been matched by Elizabeth’s to create a well-staffed Trauma Surgery department for the intercity hospital that saw it all. They were now a Level One Trauma Center thanks to her efforts, and Robert had been so proud of her the day they reacted to that designation. A bottle of Dom had been bought, and Robert and Elizabeth had raised a glass to Lucy, whose loss had put them down that path.

As the post-breakfast clean up finished, the house came alive as the family started to get ready for their day. Elizabeth caught Robert’s eye from across the room and shared a knowing glance. Things were changing. It was inevitable that one by one, their children would grow up and leave home, and that time was quickly approaching. These happy mornings would sooner rather than later come to a halt, the absence of their children ending a chapter in their lives, something neither was ready for. They knew they’d get through it, though to enjoy the adults their children would eventually become and see all their hard work come to fruition.

Robert looked back at his wife, needing no words to know how she felt. It would soon be just the two of them again.

Their life together had turned out as Robert always hoped it would be, a match made in heaven.


End file.
